


Little Moments Like This

by UlisaBarbic



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-03-13 22:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 60,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13580658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlisaBarbic/pseuds/UlisaBarbic
Summary: Sometimes, life is all we need to grow and improve. The Son Family is no exception. Follow little moments of family from all different points in time as the Son family do what every other family does--live.This is an updated version. I originally began this years ago and now am happy to be able to return to it. So the chapters will have some correction/improvement to them from the original version as I upload them!





	1. Hair of the Toddler

            **_TIME FRAME: A YEAR PRIOR TO THE ARRIVAL OF RADITZ; GOHAN IS 3 YEARS OLD._**

 

           Frowning, the small child pushed up more on his tiptoes but it wasn't enough, not by a long shot. The child deepened his scowl and thought, walking down the hall to the bathroom. There he found the tiny stool that Daddy had bought for him to reach the sink. It was shaped like a dragon but it was kind of heavy. Still, Gohan was determined and he dragged it out of the room and down the hall, to the storage room. It made a hideous scrapping sound and he stopped, eyes darting around anxiously to see if anyone had noticed his actions.

            No one came running so they either didn't hear him or opted that it was unimportant. Noises were not uncommon in a house in the woods after all! Mother was still in the kitchen and Daddy had gone outside. He was supposed to be taking a nap but he wasn't tired anymore. He wanted to surprise Daddy when he came in and he had almost every thing done but he had to have this last item to make it complete. Mom hadn't noticed him darting to and fro from the kitchen, mainly because he was so quick about it and waited until she ventured out for a moment. Plus, he had been very careful to do it throughout the day, one or two items at a time. This was the last thing he needed and he was running out of time. Once Daddy came back in, he would have to do some studying for a while and then dinner and then it would be time to get ready for bed. He wouldn't have another chance to prepare his surprise! He had to get it now. It was risky because if Mom noticed he was out of bed, he would have been ordered back. But thus far, no such obstacle had been encountered.

            This last item was the trouble.

            Mother and Daddy kept the glue out of his reach.

            Gohan pushed the stool underneath the desired shelf stood and then frowned. Even on his tiptoes, it still was far beyond his reach. He pondered this, considering his options as even for his young age, Gohan was quite clever. He couldn't reach the shelf he wanted, however, he could reach the two shelves below it. Pulling himself up, he swung his leg up and stood on the shelf, careful to walk around the jarred fruits. Mom didn't want them broken and neither did Gohan! They tasted yummy.

            He paused and then dug his hands into the shelf above his head and yanked himself up. He could reach the glue bottle now and grasped it tightly in his small hands. He sat down on the shelf to ease himself back down then paused, his nose catching the scent of fresh honey, syrup and molasses! Those would work too! He set the glue bottle down and picked up the honey and syrup, climbing down and setting them by his step stool before climbing back up and retrieving his glue and molasses.

            Once on the ground, the child frowned and then put all four on the top of his dragon stool and started to drag his treasures off into the hall and then down to his bedroom where the rest of his experiment was already laid out. He heard Mom chattering to herself as she made her way from the hallway and into the kitchen but he was well out of her eyeshot by now. He had snagged the biggest bowl from the kitchen earlier and now with his last supplies safely in his room, he was ready. Standing on his toes again, he slowly and quietly shut his door before sitting and taking hold of the jars he had gathered. He perused each one and took note that every ingredient was present.

            Gel from Daddy's bathroom that he used when he shaved his face, the honey, molasses, syrup and glue from the storage room, some sap he'd gotten from outside and that odd stuff that Mother blew over her hair sometimes. It felt empty to Gohan but he would try it. Gohan twisted the top off the first jar, his father's gel, dumping it into the bowl before doing the same with everything else. Having forgotten a spoon, Gohan dug his hands into it, making them into a fist and using that like a spoon, swishing the sticky ingredients together. He had to use both hands so several times the mixture sloshed onto the floor but he ignored it, reasoning he could clean it up later.

            When his mixture was mixed to his liking, the child picked up the bowl, with some difficulty and made his way into the bathroom, trying to keep his door as quiet as he could, setting his concoction down on the floor. Darting back into his bedroom, he set to work completing his surprise. Getting out his orange paints, crayons and markers, he pulled out a set of a white sleeved long top, one Mom had bought him a while ago but he hardly ever got to wear so he reasoned he could make it so he could wear it more often. Laying it out on the floor, he opened the top to his canister of orange paint and dumped it out in the middle of the shirt, staining it a permanent orange. He grinned and started to rub his brush through it, smearing it from top to bottom as much as he could, turning the shirt over at one point and attacking the back, never minding that he had nothing underneath it to protect the wooden floor.

            Gohan left the sleeves untouched, starting at the elbow. He would finish them later.

            Gohan frowned as there were a few places that were not as orange as he would have liked. He had to save his other can of paint to do the pants so he took the caps off his orange markers and started to run them over the blank spots. It was a different color orange but he was satisfied. He cast the crayons aside, discovering quickly that they did not write well on this material.

            Gohan got up, coated in paint himself and ran to his closet, grabbing his tan slacks. He wished he had white pants because they would be easier to color but Mother refused to buy him white though Goku said several times he looked cute in them. She'd said it was "suicide."

            Whatever that meant.

            Gohan opened his second can of paint and dumped it out on the slacks, distressed when it didn't turn as dark an orange as the top. He took out his markers, coloring as he smeared the paint the other hand. It did better than he anticipated and after a little longer, he was happy with the color. That accomplished, he went and rubbed his hands on his slacks so to not mesh the paint too much.

            Opening his can of blue paint, he grabbed a glob of it and smeared it all over the sleeves, front and back. He found he didn't need the markers for that because the paint was sufficient. Rubbing it between his hands did the best job. Grinning from ear to ear, he ran to the bathroom to finish up and stripped off his clothes, down to his underwear before grabbing his bowl of mixture. He sat in the empty tub and grabbed handfuls of the mess, smoothing it into his hair like Mother and Daddy did with the hair soap at night. It felt gooey and Gohan giggled. It felt funny!

            He went on like this until the bowl lay empty and clumps decorated his hair. Oozing out streams of sweet smelling gel, Gohan started to form his hair up into the very familiar spikes that his father's hair had. It held like he hoped it would but just for extra measure, he grabbed Mother's odd can sprayed the odd smelling stuff all over it. Grabbing a towel, he wiped the extra off his face but didn’t mind the bits dripping down his neck. With a huge grin, he leapt out and into his bedroom, grabbing his still wet art project and slipping it on, laughing at how cold it was!

 

* * *

 

            Goku came in from outside, stretching and took his shoes off.

            "Hey, Chi! That smells great!"

            ChiChi smiled, turning around with a grateful smile to her husband. "I hope so. I couldn’t find the honey to add to it so I had to improvise." It was not something any cook liked to admit but with the meal half done, she had not been about to waste those ingredients. They might have a bit of a bland tasting dinner tonight. It was an insult to her craft but no point in worrying about it. They would just need to replenish the supply tomorrow.

            Goku blinked "That's weird. I gathered it myself yesterday." He shrugged. "I know I didn't eat all of it, Chi, I swear."

            Chuckling, the human woman responded, "Well, someone did but we need to get some more molasses and syrup too…so we can--"

            "I used it Mom!" came the happy, bubbling interruption from behind them.

            ChiChi turned from the stove first, recognizing Gohan's call and dropped the bowl she held in her hands. Slowly, her face turned bleach white and she put her hands to her cheeks.

            "Oh my God!"

            Gohan ran through the doorway that separated the kitchen from the rest of the small house and spun around "Whatcha think? I look like Daddy huh?!"

            ChiChi fell to her knees. "…please tell me that is not your good top!" Maybe it was an odd thing to be focused on but with the way it was dripping paint every time her son moved, it had to have been painted and she recognized the patterns.

            "Uh huh! I like it this color! Look like Daddy!"

            He directed his eyes up at his father, beaming with streams of yellow, maple and who knew what else decorating the hairline of his face. His white silk top was now a permanent orange and blue mix, smears of his hands prints all over it and those tan pants shared the same fate. Little drops of paints followed their son all the way from his bedroom and into the kitchen.

            "Well, do I look like you Daddy?!" Gohan's inquiry came again, snapping Goku out of his daze. The father looked at his son who glanced up at the man with wide, hopeful eyes.

            Goku blinked and then burst out laughing. "Yes, yes you do!"

            Gohan squealed and ran around his father's legs, saying "I made it myself!"

            "…I see that." Goku touched his son's hair and got a glob of the mixture on his finger. He sniffed it and then stuck it on his tongue. "ChiChi…found out where the honey went…"

            ChiChi's shoulders sagged, tears in her eyes "All that money…"

            Gohan's face fell. "Mom…you don't like it?" His voice crumbled. "I thought you'd be proud I looked like Daddy."

            She looked up and Gohan's heart broken face met hers, his brown tail swishing behind him. Despite her dismay over all the money lost, how could she stay mad at that face? She sighed, heavily but then broke into a small smile. Goku knelt, hugging his son, never minding the mess. "ChiChi, I'll get the stuff out, you go get the camera before we tackle this."

            She got to her feet, slowly and then laughed, finally, saying "You've gotten your share of miracles Goku. You're going to need another one to get that mess out."

            Gohan beamed, looked up at his father and planted a kiss on his nose. "I look like Daddy now!" he repeated, happy enough with that. It really didn't take much to make him happy. Being with his father was usually sufficient but seeing Goku's smile, although his eyes were mixed of horror and happiness, was enough to make all that work worth it and make him decide to cooperate with an early bathtime. Besides, maybe Daddy and him could play with the water!

            Goku, smelling and feeling the tightness of the mixture that decorated the whole of his son's head, mused, silently "You're lucky I love you, little man."


	2. Monsters and Starlight

           _**TIME FRAME: JUST AFTER THE APPEARANCE OF FUTURE TRUNKS; GOHAN IS 7 YEARS OLD.**_

 

           Daddy was awake.

            Mother was asleep.

            Gohan felt somewhere in between.

            Sitting up in bed, the small child wrapped his arms around his legs, pondering a lot of things, mainly what they had learned that day. So much in one day!

            Daddy came back, Freeza returned and was killed by that Super Saiyan, Daddy told them that he was gonna get sick but had the antidote and that there were androids coming, Mother said he could train but only because Daddy convinced her and-

            Gohan shook his head. _So much at once!_

            He was prepared to take on the Androids. He was prepared to make himself ready for it. He was prepared for anything and everything!

            Well…almost.

            Much as he felt ashamed of it, he could not deny it. Much as he wanted to pretend it wasn't true, he was never a good liar and that included lying to himself.

            Gohan regarded his darkened room with anticipation and fear. He didn’t like the dark. Never had. He couldn't see in the dark and that meant he couldn't see danger. Before, they had been silly things that he heard about. He worried about the demons he read about in stories or he worried about the legends, like the Kappa who was said to like little children for a snack. Sometimes the sounds of the animals outside were frightening because Gohan's imagination would take him to all kinds of places that likely had no rational bearing.

            He no longer possessed those fears. In fact, he was rather embarrassed that such small things used to frighten him so badly after what he had endured but that did not mean his fears were gone. The old terrors were but in their place, were dozens of new ones. Raditz, Vegeta, Freeza, and then these Androids they'd recently heard about. And the heart virus…

            That was absolutely the worst.

            Daddy had the antidote but it hurt Gohan's heart just picturing it. He didn't want to lose Goku. Goku was his entire world. The man meant everything to him and now that he was finally back. They were finally a full family again. They were finally going to be able to get back to their lives and then came that future boy and that warning. That threat that Daddy was going to die. That he would die and not even the dragonballs would be able to undo it.

            That petrified Gohan.

            _Squeak._

            Battle instincts sprung up and little fists went up in unison. The young boy's eyes darted around the room and his breath came shortly. He shifted to put his feet onto the floor but then paused and yanked his feet back into the bed, throwing the blankets around them like a tangible shield. What if that was some enemy waiting for him to put his feet down so he could yank him into some deep abyss? What if there was someone waiting to hear that creak of wood and launch an attack right at him?

            Gohan shook his head. What was wrong with him? There was nothing under his bed! He'd looked under there himself earlier when he'd been trying to find his stuffed bear. Daddy and Mom had given him some when he was a baby and lately, he wanted it. He was also a bit ashamed to admit that his thumb had made his way into his mouth once or twice tonight. Dreams were hardly pleasant anymore and the few he'd managed in tonight were no exception. Blood, threats, monsters, death...

            _Stop it Gohan!_ he hissed at himself. _There's nothing there! You're being ridiculous!_

            He shifted his feet and then froze again.

            But on the other hand…

            If enemies like Freeza existed that could change their form, was it really so far fetched that there was someone that could vanish from sight? Gohan bit his lip. And it would be just like one of their enemies to enter and infiltrate their home. If Gero still followed Daddy enough to make these Androids to destroy him wouldn't he know where they lived? Wouldn't they know that this little house was the home of their target?

            But why would Androids come into his room…

            _Because they could…_

            Gohan jumped about fifty feet when his window creaked with the wind outside.

            Was it the wind though? Gohan's small hands broke out in a sweat as all the possibilities tore through his mind. Was it the wind? Was it an Android? Was it one of Gero's minions, seeking out their weaknesses? Was it Freeza? He had revived himself once. Who was to say he couldn't do that again? It would be just like him to wait, only to make his entrance when they least expected it…

            Gohan rubbed his feet through the covers, peering over the edge of his bed. It was so dark…he couldn't see a thing. He reached out with his ki, seeking out any invasion. He found nothing unusual. He crawled up to the head of his bed, laying down, attempting to sleep once more. He closed his eyes and then just as swiftly, heard a creak and squeak. It was…

            It was Freeza, or Raditz or the Ginyu Force or the Androids or-

            "DADDY!" he screamed, pulling his sheets up to his chin, in a faint imitation of protection. "DADDY!"

            He heard the footfalls before he felt the ki or before the door opened. As he saw the light creep under the door, shadows stretched and crept, filling his mind with all kinds of images: Freeza, Raditz, the Ginyu Force, Androids, Saibamen-

            "DADDY!" he yanked the sheets over his head, taking refuge under the covers, shaking. He charged up his ki, certain that the sheets were going to be ripped apart and a hand plunged through his chest or something like that. He waited for the blood to flow and-

            "It's okay, little man." Gohan opened his eyes as the sheets were pulled down and his father sat down on the bed and pulled his son up, under the arms and rested him in his lap. "It's okay, Daddy's here."

            Gohan flung his arms around his shoulders, shaking, and openly sobbing, though lightly. Goku wrapped one strong arm around his son's shoulders and laid back, resting his back against his son's headboard. "Shh, shh, shh. It's okay. Daddy's here." Goku tightened his grip as much as he dared and gently stroked the boy's hair back, "Shh, shh, shh. It's okay. I'm here, little man. You're safe. I promise." He rested his head on his son's for a moment for that tangible reassurance. "Shh, it's alright."

            Gohan nuzzled his head into his father's chest, taking comfort in the man's strong embrace. His racing heart was gradually beginning to slow and his father's scent was like a balm to a burning wound. He felt perfectly safe now. Nothing would conquer his daddy, he was certain. Daddy was just that way. He was safe. Daddy had promised and Daddy didn't break his promises. Yes, yes, he was safe. Daddy was safe, he was safe, Mom was safe and there were no enemies.

             _Not yet_ , his brain corrected. _Not yet..._

            "You want to talk to me, little man?"

            Gohan looked up, regarding his father's gentle eyes, smiling down at him. The man reached out a moment and just pushed the tiny strands away from his child's eyes. Nothing but warm love illuminated from his father and Gohan drank it in like water. He nuzzled in deep and responded, "I'm scared." So hard to admit that. After all, what sense did this make? He'd fought against Vegeta, the Ginyu Force, Freeza and had even defeated Garlic Junior and now he was saying he was scared to go to bed? What sense did that make?!

            "Of what?" His father's tone was with judgment and he simply gazed on his child with concern.

            "That…that some enemy is in here…I can hear them…" Gohan's eyes dropped.

            Goku didn't laugh nor did he comment that such a thought was foolish. Rather, he replied "Where?"

            "Under my bed and in my closet or outside…" Gohan began but trailed off. Wow. Hearing himself say it out loud really made it sound dumb but it did not help his underlying fear any. He thought rational thought was supposed to do that but nope. He was still afraid. He met his parent's eyes with wide brown ones of his own.

            Goku stood, set Gohan down and pushed Gohan's bed out the way, kneeling to examine the floor, pondering it. "Hmm, I don't sense anything. You little man?"

            The seven year old shook his head. "Uh uh."

            "Okay. Let's look in the closet." The Saiyan father gently ruffled his son's hair and continued on his investigation. Gohan followed, again, attempting to rationalize his fear away but it was not working, not in the least.

            Goku however, walked over, calm as ever. Gohan after a moment's hesitation, clutched his father's leg, feeling like a fool but he was completely certain that some monster was hiding in there, waiting. Maybe the enemies of the past had been defeated but there were lots of future ones. They didn't even know what the Androids looked like. For all he knew, they could be lingering about in who knew what kind of form. Or heck, maybe there was--

            "Look little man."

            Gohan peeked out with one eye, blushing as he realized that he had buried his face into the man's pant leg. How long had it been since he had done that? Pulling away slightly, he looked up, finding his father smiling at him gently. "You see anything?" The father had turned on the closet light and now knelt down, sitting on his knees, helping Gohan move boxes and toys and books, examining every inch of the space, finding no creature nor any type of ki. Gohan finally was satisfied and Goku stood, taking his son's small hand.

            "let's go see if that monster's outside, okay?"

            Gohan clutched his father's fingers tight and walked outside, pacing nervously with his father all around the outside of the house. He felt nothing but birds and small insects. The grass felt good under his feet though. But, sure enough, there was no such monster. Goku paused after the fifth trip and scooped his son under the arms and into a tight embrace.

            "See? I didn't see anything, did you?"

            Gohan shook his head and laid his head on his father's chest. He felt reassured and he felt safe. Outside in the dark didn't seem nearly as scary right now. Goku's warmth was close and his arms were firm and strong. The small child inhaled and took in his father's familiar scent. It had been so long since he had been able to do that and he savored it. With the soothing that smell brought, he directed his gaze upward where the clear sky revealed dozens of stars. "They're pretty Daddy."

            Goku blinked, surprised but nonetheless happy by the boy's change in tone. "Hmm?"

            His son pointed upward and the Saiyan turned his eyes and smiled to match his son's. "Yes. They are."

            Smiling at his child, Goku sat down on the grass, using a tree to support his back. Gohan sat still in his lap, comfortable, watching the stars and clouds. "They look like they're diamonds."

            His father smiled, stroking his son's hair back.

            "Did they look the same on Yardrat, Daddy?"

            Goku shook his head "No, they looked dull. Yardrat has pretty poor air."

            "Not like here?" His son's innocent inquiry was painted with curiosity.

            "Nope. Here, you could see for miles I think." Goku lost himself in the simple tranquility for a moment until his son's soft voice pierced his mind again.

            "Daddy…when I was in space, I thought for sure I could fly right past one and grab it in my hand. But they're all still so far away." He chuckled "I mean, I know that the stars were a lot further away than I thought but I guess, I still kinda thought I could touch  them. Silly, huh?" After all, all his books had made it very clear that to think he could get that close was ridiculous. Stars were balls of gas that burned millions of miles away.

            Goku scooped his son up, standing again. He took to the air, slowly and up through the clouds. He ascended slowly, giving his son time to adjust. After all, the boy had not been flying very long and to go this high was a little trying the first time. When his son's breathing remained steady and firm, the man stated, "I think you could if you wanted to."

            Gohan eyed him, baffled, and Goku settled back, keeping enough ki to keep them elevated and held out his palm to his son, opening it up. A small spark of ki sparkled in the center of it. "Gohan can make his own stars."

            The boy's eyes shimmered with awe at the realization. He let his father's ki warm his face a moment and Goku released it an inch from his boy's face, letting it dance across his cheeks. It tickled a little and Gohan smiled but opened his own palms, calling out small drops of ki that shimmered and sparkled with a warm light. He stared at them with a newfound appreciation and grinned widely, like he had not smiled in at least a year and half before tossing his hands outward and letting the tiny lights loose. They flew with the wind, sparkling as they went. Goku smiled, gently and moved Gohan to cradle him in his arms, gently letting the wind sway them back and forth.

            Gohan was content to release pieces of ki for a while longer before rubbing one eye with his left fist. His ki was getting fainter and fainter and while the gentle breeze was comforting, it was getting harder to keep his ki elevated. He was suddenly very grateful that his father was holding him so close. It felt so good to just relax and not have to worry. His entire body felt so heavy.

            In fact, Gohan barely registered the change in atmosphere until he felt cool sheets under his back and warm blankets pulled over his arms. He blinked, rubbing his eyes again and Goku smiled down at him with a knowing look.

            "Here, little man. If Daddy's scent makes you feel better." He winked, his silent way of telling Gohan that once again, without words being needed, that he could read his child. Goku handed his child one of his washed gi tops and the boy wrapped both his arms around it, nuzzling his head down into the warm pillow. He kept his eyes open as best he could, not wanting to go to sleep, if the dreams would return, the fears-

            Goku frowned, reading his son's stress without a need of words. Thinking a moment, he snapped his fingers suddenly, went into the kitchen and returned. "A little something to keep the monsters away, alright?"

            Gohan opened his eyes as his father set an old empty jar on his bedside table then held his hands over it a moment before releasing a little "star" of ki into the jar. It hummed and shimmered, filling the room with a warm, comforting light. Gohan smiled "A star for me, huh?"

            Goku grinned and stroked his son's hair back, saying "Not just any star, a Daddy Star. It'll chase any monsters away."

            An illogical concept but no matter. Goku had said it. Gohan believed him, no matter what anyone else could say. He felt certain any ki of his father's could frightened any demon away, no matter how strong. He closed his eyes, bathed in the warm light. Goku gave his son's forehead a gentle heartfelt kiss then slowly walked out of the room, leaving it open ajar.

            "G'night, little man."

            Gohan gave no reply; in his dreams, he was too busy making his own stars. 


	3. Lights, Camera, Gohan

_**TIME FRAME: TWO YEARS BEFORE THE ARRIVAL OF RADITZ; GOHAN IS 2 YEARS OLD.** _

 

            “Hey, Gohan!”

            The small two year old turned from his finger painting on the kitchen floor and lifted his eyes up, his pacifier still clutched tightly in between his teeth. His small brown tail waved slightly behind him as his eyes focused on his father, holding up that small video camera of Mother’s again, gazing at him through the eyepiece. “Say Hi Gohan!” The father waved at his child from behind the device, kneeling slightly so to get a better angle. This was a new thing to him, this video recorder though he found he really loved that he could watch something happen and then watch it again later with this thing! Especially with his tiny child. Gohan found something new to do each day and too often Goku found he was missing the tiny things, even if he was trying to catch them. This thing meant he could at least catch some of them, if ChiChi had this thing with her.

            Since ChiChi was out at the store, it was his turn to play with it!

            Sparked to attention by his father's enthusiastic voice, the boy beamed, letting his teeth cling to the rubber still and lifted one hand, deeply drenched in green paint to wave back at Goku before settling back to his picture. He certainly was doing a number on his clothes but Goku couldn't get mad about it. Clothes were there to get dirty, after all! He suspected that ChiChi would not think in that manner though so he might need to give the kid a bath before she got home. After Gohan was born, ChiChi went nuts getting all kinds of clothes for him every chance she got and she always loved to gush over "how cute he is!" No argument from the father on that however, she and Goku had selected Gohan’s present outfit together:

            Gohan’s green slacks were decorated with paint and Gohan’s white t-shirt (or what used to be white in any event) was decorated with kanji of weapon names and pictures, though cartoonish, of different creatures doing martial arts moves. In the center was written: **Don’t Mess With Me-Mommy and Daddy are Martial Artists.** Much as ChiChi had not wanted to encourage the martial arts, Goku had pleaded with her because, well, it was true. "Let 'em know that they'll be in for some hurt if someone messes with our boy!" he'd declared and the Son matriarch had not had any recourse for that other than a smile.

But at present moment, you could hardly read the words because Gohan looked like a rainbow had exploded over his front as he wiped his paint drenched hands over his shirt, pants and face before looking up at his father who had knelt down so he could zoom in on his son’s face.

            Gohan giggled, still keeping a firm grip on that pacifier with his teeth. Daddy looked funny through that weird device.

            “Do somethin’ little man!” Goku coached, keeping that view centered on his son's cheerful face.

            Gohan frowned, thinking, sticking one finger into his mouth, but keeping his pacifier locked in-between his teeth. “Wha' I do?” He inquired finally, his small brown tail swaying back and forth as he pondered his choices.

            Goku grinned like a cat, thinking “Tell me ‘bout yourself, little man!” He finally decided on. Gohan had a ridiculously cute voacabulary right now and if Goku could get ANY of that permanently, he was going to!

            “But Da-ie knows!” the child giggled. Daddy was silly. Daddy and Mommy knew everything about him so why did he need to tell them?

            “Well, tell Daddy so he doesn’t forget.” The father countered and then pouted, sticking out his lower lip, glancing around the camera, "Please, little man?" He puckered his lip out a little further.

            The boy covered his mouth to muffle his giggles at his father's funny face, thinking but said, after a moment to consider, waving to the camera. “Hi'a! I Son Gohan!” He was quite proud of that name and it was one of the few things that he could say without a lisp that came with learning so many new words.

            Goku squealed and seeing his father's enthusiastic response, Gohan went on, “I t'is many!” he held up two chubby fingers. “Ma’ie teach me!”

            Goku grinned again, savoring each little word that came out of his son. “Hey, Gohan, where do you live?”

            “Mount Po'u!” he replied, giggling. Daddy knew that he couldn't really say that word but it was fun to try. Always made his lips buzz!

            “Who lives with you, little man?” Goku prompted again.

            “Ma’ie, Da’ie! Gra’pa ‘ive close and b’ing me toys!” The young boy announced proudly and set his art aside to grab both his feet and rock back and forth.

            “Who lives around the house, little man?”

            “Ani’a’s!” the boy squealed and fell to all fours and paced about like a big cat, growling and shaking his head back and forth before turning back to the camera, going “Nya-Nya!” adding emphasis on the cat sound by stretching out his own brown tail.

            Goku covered his mouth but kept his eyes on his son, catching all this on camera. The boy sat up and thought a moment before setting his arms in front of him and moving his legs so they were slightly arched up, like a frog.

            Which was exactly what he was imitating. “Gggggerrro, Ggggggerrrro!” The boy pushed himself up, bouncing around the room, making Goku stand and turn to keep his son in view. The boy finally stopped and grinned up

            “An’ there 'oggies too!” he said, lifting his head to the ceiling and going “Aw, aw aw awoooe!”

            Gohan grinned at his father once he finished his howl and then started scratching his arms and wrapping his brown tail on the nearest arm chair and lifting himself off the ground, going “Uki, uki, uki!”

            Goku laughed out loud. “Well, a little monkey you are!”

            “’Onk'ie live in yard!” the boy announced, lowering himself back to the ground. He giggled, sitting on his bottom, his tail swishing behind him. Goku grinned and adjusted the focus. Gohan thought some but didn’t seem to come up with any other animals but certainly looked like he was enjoying himself. Goku sure was! The Saiyan pondered a moment then snapped his fingers, saying,

            “Say, little man? Can you sing?”

            The boy nodded firmly. “Uh huh!” Mommy did a lot of singing, especially at night and once or twice, Gohan could convince his father to do the same but he loved to sing. Daddy always had a lot of songs and rhymes that he said he learned from all kinds of friends all over the world. Daddy didn't usually sing them but he would love to tell Gohan about them. Gohan had memorized a lot of them already and when Daddy said sing well, that was right where his mind went.

            “Well…can you sing for Daddy?” Goku added a half pout to his request. Much as Gohan used it on him and ChiChi, Goku was fully capable of returning it.

            The boy sat there a moment, chin in hand. His tail lifted half off the ground then twapped back down several times, the boy was so deep in thought. Then he grinned and jumped up “Me know! Me know!”

            “Oh, what are you gonna sing, little man?”

            The boy rocked back and forth on his feet a moment then started, standing up and clasping his hands behind his back as if he were on a large stage. He dug his left socked toe into the ground as he chanted:

            “Wabbit on Moon, wha' 'ou  'eap for? Gohan ‘eap too, ‘eap soon! Fo' the fu’ b’ight moon!” he declared, though his pacifier made him a little difficult to understand. Goku was an expert at it by now though. He set the camera down a minute and clapped his hands together.

            “Yay!” Funny, when Gohan was first born, ChiChi had said that he would find himself clapping and making a big deal over the smallest thing. Goku had not believed her but it was definitely true. Anything his son did, he was going to praise.

            Gohan grinned, mimicking his father’s applause. He paused a moment then stretched his hands into a cup like form and placed them on the end of his nose and stretched it out, imitating a long snout as he sang:

            “’Itt’e e’ephie, 'ou ‘ong, ‘ong nose! Yes, my Da’ie ‘ong nose too!” he sang, happily using his hands to imitate a nose moving around, “Itt’e, e’ephie, who you ‘ove bes'est in world? I ‘ove Da’ie bes'est in world! YAY!” Goku applauded with his son, never taking the focus off his son’s face. The toddler was of no shortage of songs and he made that firmly known. Goku ate up every second of it. Gohan had an excellent memory and the father found himself beaming with pride when his son would shift into a rhyme or song that they had talked about. He knew several of them he had taught Gohan after talking about some of his adventures for bedtime stories. As Gohan began his next piece, the father's grin only widened.  Gohan had a lot of trouble pronouncing “l” and that sound dominated this song, making his version of it even more precious.

           Gohan had tired with standing and had flopped on the floor. He first sat up but then seemed to get an idea. His small little grin broke his cheeks and with a cheerful 'umph' he had rolled to his belly and let his tail stick straight up and started to deliberately move it in a firm pattern back and forth, keeping a rhythm with his new song: “’ 'Ick ‘Ock C’aw.” He slurred, his new teeth and the always present binky making his pronunciation of ‘clock’ completely unrecognizable by anyone but said Father and Mother. “'Ick, ‘Ock, Caw! Gra’pa c’aw! 'Ick ‘Ock C’aw. Aww 'ay ‘Ong!” Goku smiled and while he kept filming his son, he swayed back and forth some himself, singing along with his son.

           “Little child hand," Gohan lifted his left one high. "Big grown up hand.” Goku lifted his own right hand and pushed it gently against his son's, relishing, for a moment how utterly small his child's fingers were. All five of them could curl around his thumb. “Hello, how are you?”

            Gohan chimed in his part of the rhyme. “'Ye-'Ye, see you soon! 'Ick Ock C’aw.”

            Gohan giggled out loud then reached down into his art supplies. Goku picked up the camera, focusing again as Gohan picked up a paintbrush, unused as of the moment and placed it against his ear so the bristles rested by his chin. “He’o, He’o!” the boy cooed. “Uh huh, uh huh" He carried on a rather lengthy conversation for a two year old and Goku caught the name of Rus which had recently been what Gohan stated was the name of a dragon that came and played with him. Apparently, 'Rus' had been all over the world today and had stopped three giant bears from taking all the candy from lots of boys Gohan's age. His son carried on with his talk like there was no one else in the world.

            Finally satisfied, Gohan set his brush down and now regarded his father with a face that could melt a glacier as a terrible rumbling shook the atmosphere and Gohan grabbed his stomach. “Da’ie, Gohan tummie hun’gie!”

            Goku smiled, turned the camera off and took his son’s hand. “Hungry, are you?”

            Gohan nodded. “Uh huh! Da’ie make ‘ummies fo’ my belly!”

            “I think Daddy can do that.” The father responded, picked his son up, ignoring the paint getting all over him and ventured into the kitchen.

* * *

 

            ChiChi returned from shopping, her father in tow, laying their bags in the living room. "Goku? Gohan?" She announced her presence as her father closed the door behind them. She caught the remains of several unfinished art projects on the floor and if they were not so adorable, she might have been angry over how much scrubbing it would take to remove that paint from the wood. Bending over, she scooped up the several half finished paintings and drawing, before hearing from the kitchen the wonderful sound of her two boys, along with the smell of rice balls:

            “’Et ‘ake rice bawws! Use ou' 'ands!’Ake 'hem ‘oun! ‘Ake them ‘oun! 'O 'ake 'ice bawws? Da’ie an’ me!”

            Creeping around the corner, taking care not to be seen, she nearly melted at the sight.

           Father and son, standing by the counter, with Gohan tip toed on his tiny stool, and in nothing but his socks and his diaper (she caught sight of his soiled-painted ridden clothes tossed in the corner) pounding out the rice snack to the distinctive beat and rhythm.

            Goku turned and leaned over a bit, nuzzled his son's nose with his own.

            “Let’s eat the rice balls, Gohan.” He sang with his son’s tune, inserting his son’s name to make it more personal. “Very good taste. Juice and sweet. Juicy and sweet.” With each phrase the father would rub his belly. Goku looked down at the plate as they finished up and gave his son a open mouth look, one of faux surprise as Gohan moved the last of the balls to a bowl. He held the plate up, turning it over. “Who ate all of them? Who will eat them all?”

             Gohan beamed, biting into one that his father offered before stretching his gummy hand up and offering his father his own version, which truly looked more pancake than ball but that mattered not to the father. “ ‘Ou and me, Da’ie, ‘ou and me!”

           

 


	4. Mirror Mirror

            **_TIME FRAME: THE TEN DAYS BEFORE THE CELL GAMES; GOHAN IS PHYSICALLY ELEVEN, CHRONOLOGICALLY TEN_**

            Mother said he looked good in a suit.

            Daddy said that gi really fit him.

            The ten year old frowned, studying his reflection. It was nice to have a little bit of a break before the Cell Games and so far, they had used it wisely. He’d spent a few days studying but overall, he’d wandered the mountains, enjoying himself or gone fishing with his father or as of last night, he'd even helped his mother cook dinner. Though, he didn't know if stirring a bowl counted as 'helping.' He'd gathered the fruit though! As it was now, Mother was packing for their picnic and Daddy was going to be getting him soon.

            Gohan sat down, head bowed. One wouldn’t think it such a horrendous task, especially given all the other issues Gohan readily dealt with each day. Yet, here he sat, mind ablaze over something as simple as an outfit. It was really a stupid worry, the more he thought about it. He could have grabbed any outfit, his mother hung them up religiously in the pairs she expected matched best. It wasn't that simple though. He really didn't think anything was simple anymore.

            So instead he sat where he was, in his boxers, pondering.

            Mother tired of his training and he knew every time he wore a gi it pounded that into her mind. He also had to admit that when he got a chance to wear the clothing inspired by his mother's bloodline, he felt proud to share her heritage.

            Likewise, he knew the gi made his father beam with pride when he saw his son in it and he loved letting everyone know he was the son of Goku.

            He wanted to please his mother.

            He wanted to make his father proud.

            He wanted to make himself happy.

            Gohan clutched his head. It was so confusing! Why did Mother press so hard? Oh, it wasn’t that his father didn’t have his faults but it seemed like Daddy was so much more understanding. Gohan knew Mother was so pressing because she wanted him to get a good education, that she wanted him to succeed. He’d always been interested in learning new things so Mother saw it her place to press the studying and discourage the distracters. Gohan appreciated the love she obviously poured into it.

            Yet, lately, Gohan had been questioning this long established life path.

            His heart was buried in martial arts and he knew it. Not  the battles...aside from his father and Vegeta, who LIKED rushing head long into situations where you could die? However, he could not argue that  the thrill of the martial arts was not intriguing and intoxicating. He certainly understood why Krillin, Yamcha, Tien...why all of them loved them so much. That aside, he was deeply afraid that his long studying had not uncovered any particular subject that intrigued him. Nature intrigued him but not in the way that mother desired. He liked to read about animals, bugs and their characteristics, their behaviors but not nearly so much as he enjoyed drawing them or observing them, working with them in the mountains. Then, there was the aspect of ki that he had learned from his father and Piccolo. They had really only scratched the surface of it, that much he was sure. What else could you achieve with it? It was a deep itching and longing to discover the depths of where he could take it, not just in martial arts but in practical use.  With all these prospects, could he really spend the rest of his life in a lab or a library or classroom?

            He used to think so but now, he was positive, no. No, he couldn't.

            There was also the concept of his artistic passion. Truly, that love for art had always been there and over the years, it had developed and become something stronger. He was quite good, or so he was told. Bulma told him that a lot; after Namek, Gohan had taken to drawing quite a bit, including some portraits for Bulma which she hung up in her businesses with nary a thought. Master Roshi had commented on his skill and Gohan had drawn him quite a few busty ladies, which the old man had paid him pretty good money for even though Gohan had not thought they were that good. Krillin had teased him about "knowing more than you let on."

            Whatever that meant.

            Oh, and everyone knew the refrigerator downstairs was coated in his many drawings and paintings. Mother and Daddy always made a fuss over them but Gohan knew that Mother was just treating it as a hobby, and that while it was healthy, she did not want him spending "too much time on it that could be used better elsewhere." Oh, a hobby was what it had been originally but as the years pressed on, Gohan’s thoughts were changing. He was beginning to consider it as a career, on the side from martial arts. As he got older and read more comics, he was seriously beginning to consider writing and drawing one of his own though on what he wasn’t sure.

            ChiChi wouldn’t much approve. While it was a job, it was not a reliable one, not one that had steady income which was what she was pushing him to seek out. He saw her point, he truly did. After all, how many times had he overheard Mother and Daddy talking about money when they thought he couldn't hear? He knew that it had to put a lot of strain on his Mother at least. Daddy could live without it and truthfully, Gohan could see himself doing the same (at least if Daddy taught him some more handiman stuff!) but money DID make things much more comfortable.

            Plus, it was important to Mom.

            He wanted her to be proud of him, like Daddy was. Being a scholar was what she wanted and for a long time, he’d accepted this as his fate. He’d tried to find something that interested him so that he could tolerate and even enjoy it. For a while, that had worked, as he DID love reading and he had been content to do just that. He’d been…well, tolerant of staying home and fulfilling his mother’s dream. He just resigned himself to that being his fate and his mother's smile had always eased any frustration.

            Then there came someone called Raditz.

            Then Vegeta.

            Then Freeza.

            Then Androids and now Cell.

            While each battle filled him with fear, it also filled him with pride in himself. With each challenge, he saw himself grow stronger. He felt a surge of happiness the more he trained with his father, as he drew closer and closer to becoming the hero his father was. Oh, how he desired so much to be like him. He looked to Goku with awe and deep love. He wanted to declare to anyone that would listen that he was the child of Goku.

            He loved knowing that he was keeping people safe, that the world was remaining at peace. His fears began to dissipate when he realized the type of power he held, the power to take hold of his own future, his own hopes and dreams and keep them from any invading force. With each enemy conquered, he relished in the lasting peace he had helped make with his own two hands. The battles brought fear but when they were over and done, the peace that had been obtained was exhilarating and oh-so-inspiring. To know that HE had a hand in it...

            “Hey Gohan!”

            The boy looked up and grinned widely, spying his father in the doorway before walking over and wrapping his arms around Goku’s waist in a sudden embrace. He buried his face, still smiling. Cell was more a threat than anything else he’d ever faced yet Daddy was so calm about it. Gohan didn’t know why. He trusted his father’s judgment and was certain that he had a plan of sorts. He had to. He'd not let him down before.

            “Well, you gonna go out in your underwear or are you gonna get dressed?” The slight tease in the tone was full of paternal affection. Gohan knew it was partially because everyone knew if he'd told his father that yes, yes, he would like to go out in his underwear, his laidback parent would have just said 'Convince your mother.'

            Gohan drew away, a bit reluctantly from the gentle hair tossle his father gave him, his mind drifting back to his original dilemma. “Can’t decide.”

            “Oh, why, you wanna do something different?” Goku’s tone wasn’t annoyed, just inquiring. The boy sighed deeply.

            “Yeah…” he responded going to the closet door. “But I dunno what.”

            Goku peered over his head. “Well, might wanna give that gi a break.”

            Gohan turned stared at him then comprehended that his father wasn’t dressed in a gi either. He had grown so used to it that he really never took note but now with a double take, he saw his father had forgone his usual attire. He had on jeans, a t-shirt and a orange jacket. An odd thing for his father to wear really, since he seemed to live in that gi. Goku seemed to catch his son’s look and ruffled his son’s hair a second time. “It won’t kill me to let it rest a little bit. It’ll get plenty of use in the next few days.”

            Gohan chuckled at the sudden image that shot through his head. “Bet you could still kick someone’s a-“

            Goku raised a critical eyebrow at his son, giving a brief ‘uh uh’ under his breath. While Gohan was usually a very polite child, he had also been exposed to a bunch of fighters in life or death situations. He had picked up many a crude word and while he was good about keeping it under wraps, lest Mother find something else to dislike about him training, it still slipped out on occasion. Goku wasn't super fond of them either, mainly because he said it sounded "wrong" coming from his son's mouth. (Though, rest assured, Gohan was quick to remind his father that he learned several of those words from him! Regardless of how he tried, Goku had 'reactionary words' too)

            Gohan amended his statement, at his father's reprimanding look.

            “-someone’s butt in it.”

            Goku chuckled and started to go through his son’s clothes, saying “If I had to.”

            “I want something like that.” Gohan declared simply.

            Goku turned, cocked a brow. “Eh, like what?”

            “Something I can still fight in if I have to…” he paused, thinking, rubbing his neck. “But something Mom won’t go ballistic over and something that kinda looks like hers too..." He shrugged, trying to explain "I'm related to BOTH of you. I should look it."

            Goku laughed, “Well, she bought all of these for you so I don’t think she has much room to talk…but then, it _IS_ your mother.” He said good naturedly. Gohan nodded, standing by his father’s side. His face was downtrodden a lot lately. Originally, Goku had dismissed it as fear over Cell, as he himself was nervous, unsure what would become of the coming battle. But lately, he found it to be rooted in something else.

            “Here.”

            Gohan glanced up as Goku tossed him some black slacks and an old style white top. “Wear those, they’re pretty easy to move in.” He smiled "And that top is based in the same style as your Mom's."

            Gohan took them, eyed them a minute then seemed to agree with his father and put them on. Goku started out the door then paused, coming back in, approaching his son with soft steps. “Gohan, what’s wrong?”

            “Nothin’…” Gohan protested, tugging the shirt on.

            “Hey, hey, c’mon now, no secrets.” Goku got down to his son’s level. He used to have to sit down but now he just had to kneel. “I can see it in your face. You tell Daddy, okay?”

            Gohan looked up, his eyes wet slightly.

            Goku blinked, backing up slightly.

            “Gohan, what’s wrong?” He repeated.

            The boy rubbed at his eyes. “Nothin…just been thinkin’ a lot.”

            Goku sat down by his side, leaning against the bed. “About what, little man?”

            “…about what I wanna do when I grow up.” Saying it out loud did feel better even if that wasn't completely the whole reason. It was a nice summary of it.

            “Well, you got some time to think about that.” Goku advised with a smile.

            Gohan nodded “I know…I think I know what I wanna do though…” he bit his lip “But Mother won’t like it.”

            “Oh, she just wants you happy Gohan.” Goku attempted to reassure his child and was a bit relieved when Gohan smiled back.

            “I know. I know that’s why she has me study so much too.”

            Goku nodded, reached out, ruffled his son’s hair. “Yeah, because it gives you an advantage Mother didn’t have and Daddy didn’t have. She’s wants to give you every tool she can, you know?”

            “I know. But just because she gives them to me doesn’t mean I have to use them.” He said solemnly. He kept his eyes downcast a moment then thrust his head up, grinning “but never mind that Daddy. Mother made us a picnic so let’s go eat it!”

            Goku laughed himself and yanked Gohan up by his arms, setting him on his shoulders. “Sounds good by me!”

* * *

 

            “I bet that one would make great sushi.”

            Gohan nodded, eyeing the fish in the lake. Goku eyed his son, who hadn’t said much since they’d stopped outside the city limits of West City and set up the blanket. ChiChi was still adding plates and food. Goku had taken his son aside, hoping to get his attention on anything but the coming battle but it seemed his efforts weren’t taking effect.

            “Daddy, we probably should still be training…”

            “Hey, I already told you Gohan: we’ve pushed our bodies to their limits. Anything else would be just torture, not training. It’s just as important to relax and enjoy yourself right now…heck, maybe even more important.” He smiled "Rememeber what I said in the time chamber? About rest being more important?"

            Gohan shifted, met Goku’s eyes “More important?” He repeated "Yeah, I remember Dad but...I guess it's hard for me to wrap my head around that. I just wanna train until I know it'll make a difference." He sighed heavily, feeling, again, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "But I trust you too Dad and you say that this is more important."

            Goku sat down, pulled his shoes off and stuck his feet into the lake. Gohan followed suit after taking off his own shoes, mimicking his father. “Yeah, it is.” Goku confirmed gently, with a hand to his son's shoulder.

            “Why?” Gohan asked "I mean, I know you explained the importance of rest but this seems like it's too much rest, Dad..."

            “Well, what’s the point of fighting if you forget why you’re fighting?” Goku countered softly. There was a deep thought to his eyes that Gohan rarely saw. His father had a stern side and Gohan saw it on occasion but this was different. It was like his playful father was suddenly four times as old as he should have been. Looking at him, Gohan saw all the stories his  father used to tell him playing back in those eyes--the Red Ribbon Army, King Piccolo and all his minions, all these creatures and adventures his father had endured before he was even a thought.

            It was a bit unnerving. Gohan stared and Goku seemed solemn, deep in thought. “Our friends, your mother, Grandpa, this world…they all push me on Gohan. Even your mother’s raving because I know it means she cares.” The Saiyan lifted his head and smirked. “But mainly for you Gohan.”

            “Me?” Maybe he should not have been surprised; after all, how many times had Goku told him that he was his world?

            Goku nodded. “Yep, you. I’ve been fighting all my life Gohan, takin’ on challenge after challenge, being pushed by the adrenaline rush and the Saiyan drive to get stronger. But, I think it was all something that made me stronger but not to a point where I was satisfied. I was trying to find something but I didn’t know what. Even winning the tournament didn’t do it.”

            “But Mother said you went ballistic when you finally did that!” The boy protested. "I know I would have!"

            Goku laughed, “I did. I was happy but the happiness didn’t have a lasting effect, not like I do now.”

            “What changed Daddy?” Gohan's inquiry was full of childlike innocence, something Goku had not heard in a long time. It made his heart ache to realize how long it had been since he heard that sweet innocence in his son's voice.

            “I became a father.”

            Gohan blinked. “And that changed all that?”

            “In a way.” Goku pulled Gohan’s head into his lap and the boy flopped down without protest. With a low chuckle, Goku reached down and stroked his child's hair. “Before I didn’t have a reason to keep fighting except for myself. When I married your mother, I had a wife, a father-in-law. But only when we had you…that’s when I felt I had this reason to get stronger. I wanted to share that love with you, that passion. But not in the same way I had to learn.”

            Gohan eyed his father who smirked at his son. Gohan was a bit confused but he seemed to get the overall idea. “I want to be like you Daddy. I want to be a hero like you are.”

            Goku’s smile widened. “Not many people know Daddy is one.”

            “They should…you save them all the time.” Gohan pouted. THAT was a grave injustice.

            “Well, that’s not real important to me." The Saiyan shrugged nonchalantly. "What’s important is that YOU know who I am.”

            Gohan was silent, not understanding how his father could be so casual about it. “Maybe the world will actually remember you this time Daddy. The Cell Games are a major deal.”

            _I doubt they’ll be remembering my name._ Goku thought silently. _They may remember yours though._

            “I just hope I can keep up with you at the tournament Daddy.” Gohan remarked softly. Goku stroked his son’s hair back, thinking.

            _I hope Daddy can keep up with you, little man. You left Daddy’s power ranks a long time ago. This world is gonna fall to your hands now, little hero._


	5. Legacy

                  **_TIME FRAME: ONE MONTH AFTER THE CELL GAMES; GOHAN IS PHYSICALLY ELEVEN, CHRONOLOGICALLY TEN_**

            He wondered if tears were eternal or if like a well they would eventually dry up.

            He wondered if pain was always biting like teeth or if it would eventually succumb to a mild burn.

            He wondered why he hadn't destroyed Cell when the chance had been available to him.

            Gohan didn’t lift his head from the pillow, shoulders shaking with concealed sobs, as had been the routine for the past month. Mother had been similar though she seemed to have lifted her head up and moved on as best one could though Gohan still heard her cry when the woman thought he couldn’t hear. His Saiyan inherited hearing made sure of that. That only made his own pain hurt more, knowing that HE had caused this. Intentional or not, he had done it.

            His fault.

            Gohan lifted his head out of his pillow, his young eyes turned into a fierce red color and bags decorated his cheeks. He was thin, he hadn’t eaten much in days. Mother managed to get a little bit here and there in him but overall, he had shut down. His gi lay in his closet, unused and his books were gathering dust. Mother had kept silent about it, letting him mourn in his own way. He could tell she was getting worried but try as he might, he could not force himself to get into ANYTHING again.

            It wasn’t fair!

            Gohan buried his face again, screaming out the injustice to whatever spirit would listen. Daddy wasn’t supposed to die! Daddy was supposed to still be here with him! Daddy had promised him that they would go to an amusement park after the Cell Games. They were supposed to do a family day once Cell’s fate was sealed. Daddy had promised that he would finally teach him instant transmission. Daddy had promised that they would go on a family trip and see all the places he had visited on his trip around the world!

            But that promise was a little hard to keep when one was dead.

            When one's own son had betrayed him and let him die.

            A soft knock at the door, made the boy turn “C-come in.”

            With a small creak, he felt the presence of his grandfather enter. The older man sat by him on the floor, stretching one mighty hand to rest on his back. Gohan buried his face again and he felt the elder man sigh deeply but kindly. “Gohan, your father didn’t die to make you sad. He did it to make sure you lived happily.”

            “Live happily?” The boy sat up, tears running down his face. “My Daddy’s gone! How can happily ever fit with me again?” he buried his face into his hands. “I should have killed Cell when I had the chance. I was too stupid, too damned arrogant.”

            “No, you were a little boy." The elderly man argued gently, reaching out with one large finger to smooth the tears away. "A little boy thrown into a battle that was playing games with his heart. Cell twisted you about Gohan, played with your emotions.”

            “I should have slaughtered him.” The boy hissed through his teeth.

            The Ox King couldn’t argue that point but instead said pointedly, “But that isn’t who you are Gohan.”

            “That monster that was fighting wasn’t me either.” The boy said softly. “When I slipped into that new power…I wasn’t Gohan anymore. I was caught up in the power, I lost myself. I didn’t remember how to keep myself and utilize my power at the same time. I slipped into a monster that just wanted to see Cell suffer and beg for his life.”

            “You know better now.”

            Gohan didn't feel like commenting that if he had the chance to fight Cell again, he would likely make sure the creature begged for death before the end. Instead, he said, “At the cost of my Daddy.”

            The Ox King thought a moment. “You know Gohan, I really think your father knew he was going to die.”

            Gohan jerked his head up. “H-how do you figure?”

            The Ox King smiled, “Well, think over Goku’s last few days. What did he do?”

            Gohan thought back, he thought about the way his father had dedicated every spare second to his family. He thought about the father-son trips they took, he thought about when Mother went out for the day and Dad decided it was time for the worst talk ever...and his cheeks blushed a brilliant red, making the Ox King laugh. “He gave you THAT talk didn’t he?”

_Seven Days Prior to the Cell Games_

            “Daddy, what is it?” Gohan inquired seriously. “You sent Grandpa and Mom to Bulma’s. Why? Did I do something? You look nervous.”

            Goku laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to talk to you, little man.” The boy eyed his father, unconvinced.

            “About what?” He said it with a slightly apprehensive tone.

            “Well, tell me something. How old are you, Gohan?” Goku began though he regretted it right after. What kind of question was THAT to start a conversation?

            “Eleven," The child responded, "Well, I guess by the world's standards I would be ten still but here" he pointed to his head "I'm eleven." He giggled a little "The Time Chamber makes things complicated."

            Even though he smiled, Goku just went on, “You’re not a little boy anymore, are you?”

            Gohan pondered this a moment then grinned. “Nope.”

            Goku sat down on the living room floor and Gohan followed. “Why Daddy?”

            “Well, you’re going to start changing soon…”

            “Changing?” What was he talking about? He didn't have a tail anymore...

            Goku rubbed his head again. “Did Daddy ever tell you about the cave and the eel?”

            Gohan blinked “The cave and the eel?”

            Goku turned to his son, “Y-yeah. The woman’s cave and…and the man’s eel.”

            Gohan pondered this a moment before realization clicked, mainly from his books and studying. Though Roshi had given him some insight too. “DAD!” He screeched.

            “What Gohan?” The father responded though by the sweaty and red face, he did not want to be having this conversation either.

            “Dad…THAT?!” Gohan groaned and covered his ears "Not listening!"

            "Gohan, stop that," Goku pouted, pulling one hand down. "Someone has to explain it to you and this is less awkward than if your Mom tried. What do you understand of it?”

            “Not much…but geez!” He really didn't know if Mom explaining it would have been any more awkward but...actually, yeah, yeah, Daddy was right. This was awkward but Mom trying to do it would have been utter agony.

            “Well, I’d rather Daddy tell you then you having to find out by doing like Daddy had to.” Goku said simply. He had certainly enjoyed it once he understood it but that had made his wedding night extremely awkward and uncomfortable. ChiChi had the patience of a saint and he wanted to spare his son that, even if this was a lot harder than he thought it would be. After all, he was Goku. He usually couldn't care less about the cultural norms of things but for some reason, talking about this with his only child...he didn't like it.

            Gohan’s entire face turned the color of a tomato. “Daddy…I’m a little young for that…”

            “Not necessarily. Mother told me that children are maturing faster and I don’t want you to get scared.” That much he was adamant on. He had been too naïve to be frightened but Gohan was more educated and wiser than he was. The idea that he would be aware enough to be frightened was enough to spur Goku to action.

            Gohna started to wring his hands so Goku stopped a moment, thinking. “Come with me a minute Gohan.”

            The boy rose and followed his father into the bathroom. Goku sat him up on the counter and eyed him. “You’ll start growing all over before long little man and that means you’ll start gettin’ hair.” He grinned and pinched his son’s cheeks “Both here and…here.” He half slapped at Gohan’s lower half, though he only hit his lower belly but Gohan got the idea. That kind of gesture was Goku’s hick nature in him. Gohan still turned red but he nodded.

            “You with me so far, little man?”

            Gohan nodded, blood red. Goku pulled out some things from the cabinet. Gohan recognized them; Daddy used them to shave in the mornings some times. Goku took a small dab of it on his palm and smeared it over Gohan’s chin, making the boy sneeze when some got on his nose. Goku laughed and said, “You only got to worry about the hair on your face so I’ll teach you real quick, okay?”

            Gohan stared and Goku pressed a razor into his hand though he kept the cover on it. “Okay, you with me?”

            “Daddy, you’re not going to teach me much if you keep it covered.”

            Goku pondered this but had to agree and uncovered the top, and taking Gohan’s hand in his own before starting to do small strokes over his son’s face, not pressing down too hard. “Like that, little man. Don’t do it if you’re in rush or you’ll—Not that hard!”

            Gohan yelped and pulled his hand away as a small line of blood sprung from his face. He bit his lip and held his fingers to the cut. Goku ran a wash cloth under the faucet and dabbed the soap away from the cut before pressing a bit of toilet paper against the wound. Gohan grinned despite it, “Or I’ll do that?”

            Goku laughed himself. “Exactly.” Maybe he should have taken the blade out...after all, Gohan had no hair yet but he also didn't want his son to get the wrong feeling or get used to applying the wrong kind of pressure. He had cut the heck out of his face when he first started to have hair and had to be explained what shaving was, much to Mr. Popo and Kami's amusement and he really hoped he could spare Gohan that.

            After a few minutes, the bleeding clotted and Gohan took up the razor again and this time went slower and softer, without incident “Like that?”

            “Yep.” Goku took another washcloth and rinsed the soap from his son’s face. “There you go. You understand that?”

            “Yeah, but I think it’ll be a while before I get face hair Daddy.” He frowned "I mean, I'm only eleven."

            “You never know, as your Mother says.” Goku said with a large smile, rubbing the back of his head.

            “Okay…wh-what else is there Dad?” Gohan hated this but it sounded like Dad wasn't about to stop. Might as well go with it.

            Goku rubbed his head nervously. “Well…” he paused, trying to think of a good way to word it. “Uh…as you older, you’re going to notice girls more, I think. Your body might anyway and it might…start acting weird.”

            “How?” Gohan had read SOME on this but he had not been anxious to delve deep into it.

            “You might sweat or get nervous or…well…” Goku paused again, feeling extremely awkward which wasn’t something the Saiyan felt much. Still he eyed his son and finished “You might start feeling urges and pain…down there.”

            Gohan flushed a deep dark red and Goku laughed. “I’m tellin’ you rather than having it surprise you, okay, my little man?”

            Gohan nodded but his blush didn’t diminish any. “I-I- know.”

            “And I’m telling you that it might be worse if you inherited that part of my Saiyan blood, okay? If that happens, don’t worry about it. Just tell Mom you need to be alone, come in here and—well, uh…stimulate it until the feeling goes away.”

            “DADDY!” Gohan covered his ears again, "Not listening!!"

            “No, Gohan, I’m serious.” Here the Saiyan was adamant and met his son’s eyes intently, cupping his son's chin and gently urging the boy's hands away from his ears. “It’s not disgustin’ no matter what everyone tells you, okay? Saiyans have a stronger drive than humans. I’d rather you handle it yourself than to go out and find a girl-“

            “Daddy, I wouldn’t do that!” Gohan felt a bit hurt that his  father would think--

            “I know you wouldn’t" Goku interrupted. "But when your body is caught up in pain, you’d be surprised what it tries to do and it might be a bit before you learn to read it.” Goku emt his son’s eyes. “Do you understand me?”

            Gohan nodded “Daddy, is it true a Saiyan has to find a girl and make her pregnant when they get old enough?”

            Goku burst out laughing, though without malice. “Who told you that--Vegeta?”

            “Maybe he was-“ Gohan began but his father was quick to dismiss that fear.

            “he’s just trying to scare you. Think about it Gohan. If that was true, don’t you think you’d have a ton of siblings by now?” Goku smirked though he had to admit--he would not be opposed to a second or third little one.

            Gohan smiled, flushed slightly at his question, and replied “I guess not.”

            Goku smiled. “If you need to ask anyone anything, go to Krillin. He might blush like crazy and try and avoid it but he’ll talk to you. I’d rather you ask someone if you need to know, okay?”

            “But Daddy, I can ask you-“

            Goku paused suddenly and then shook his head, smiling. “Just coverin’ my bases. You know your mom said after these Cell Games, she wants me to get a real job.”

            Covering his mouth, the boy attempted to muffle his laughter at such a concept but it was to no avail. The giggles turned into an all out laughing fit that left him in stitches at the thought of his father in a business suit. Goku scooped his son into his arms and lifted him up “What’s so funny?”

            “N-nothin’.” Gohan grinned as Goku suddenly hugged him tightly, intensely, as if he never wanted to let go. “Okay, little man. Just a few more things then we can have some fun oaky?”

            Gohan blushed but nodded. “Okay Daddy.”

            “Well, you know what wet dreams are?”

            Gohan blinked. “I asked Mom and she turned blood red and tol’ me I was too young to worry about it. I looked it up in my books and they only said it happened at puberty.”

            “Well, remember when I said your body’d get…urges?” Goku groaned. He wanted this to be OVER!

            Gohan nodded.

            “Well, a wet dream is what happens when that happens. Your…” he blushed suddenly, again, a completely odd thing to see on country hick Goku  but Gohan thankfully, caught on.

            “I…I know what part you’re talking about Daddy…” He reassured him.

            “Good…you might get…rigid down there and then well…” Goku froze again, unsure how to go about this.

            Gohan had read a little on this so he asked, “I’ll release something, right?”

            Goku let out a sigh of relief. “That’s one way of putting it. Same basic thing that happens during sex. Doesn’t mean you’re a pervert or anything though. Just normal.”

            Gohan blushed himself and said “Daddy…”

            “Ne?”

            “You never really _explained_ that.” He pressed.

            “What?” Goku asked, with an odd high-pitched note to his voice.

            “Sex. You said eel and cave then you were teaching me how to shave. Doncha think you should explain it?” He folded his arms. If this was going to happen, he was going to get the whole story!

            Goku winced. “Well, you know what eel I’m talking about right?”

            “Duh.” Gohan rolled his eyes.

            “And you understand the cave?”

            “Yeah…my books show the differences. Yer talkin’ about a woman’s…well…” he rubbed his head, “Roshi calls it a lot of stuff I’d probably get slapped for.” He grinned “but I know what you mean.”

            Goku sat down again and Gohan sat by him. ‘Well, when you have—No..” Goku broke off. “I don’t want my little boy having _sex_. If you ever do it, I want you to _make love_. I want you to love whoever you do it with, okay? Can you make Daddy that promise? That you won’t do it rashly?”

            Gohan nodded “I promise. I want to do it like Daddy did, after I’m married.”

            “Probably a good idea.” Goku responded. “But if you do it before hand, use protection, okay?”

            Gohan blushed “Daaaad…”

            “I know, I know, I hate this conversation too, okay but I want you to understand.” He smiled. “I want it to be something special you do with someone you love. Okay?” On this, Goku seemed absolutely adamant. He was sweating, like he was in the Time Chamber or something but he kept his voice steady.

            Gohan nodded, listening. Goku took a deep inhale, like he was in the middle of a battle or something. “Well, when you make love with someone, the man puts his eel into the woman’s cave.” He frowned. “If it’s her first time, like it was your mother’s then the cave bleeds a little bit but then that’s it. Your body kinda takes over from there.”

            “Daddy…that’s how you get a baby, isn’t it? That’s how you and Mom got me.” He'd read up on it but this made a lot more sense, hearing it in these terms. Unorthodox maybe but that was their family in a nutshell.

            Goku smiled, a bit comforted by the reminder that Gohan had come out of that made it easier to discuss with his son. “Yep. The eel releases little eels and they go and find the eggs in the cave. And then if they find the eggs, a baby grows up in the cave until its ready to come out.” Goku winced, that was kind of a crude explanation but the best he could do.

            Gohan blushed but laughed at the image that conjured up. But he understood. He stood and smiled, “I get it Daddy, you can stop now.”

            Goku let out a great exhale of relief and stood. “Good!” he grinned. “Now that that’s taken care of, let’s go have some fun!”

            “Are we gonna train?” Gohan's eyes lit up.

            “In a little bit.” Goku grinned, looked around like there were spies everywhere before giving an evil smile.  “If you don’t tell your mother….you wanna drive, little man?”

            “ME?” The boy’s eyes about popped out of his head.

            “Sure, we’re just gonna stay on the mountain, why not?” He jingled the keys in front of his son and the boy snagged them from him.

            “SURE!”

            Goku smiled, going after his son though his heart felt heavy. He meant to make use of this time with his wife and son, mainly his son. He had an aching feeling in his heart that it would be the last for a long while. He wouldn’t make Gohan go to bed that night either. If Gohan wanted to eat ice cream for breakfast the next morning, Goku couldn’t care less.

            There were more important things than that.

_Present_

            Gohan laid his head on his desk, thinking. Grandpa had gone back out to Mother after a bit, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Daddy had thought of everything, hadn’t he? He really had thought he would die. He’d been willing to die. Gohan closed his eyes, letting silent tears seep out of his eyes. It wasn’t so much father’s death that killed his heart as it was that Goku had done so much and he wouldn’t be remembered by anyone but his family and friends.

            And now, thanks to Mr. Satan he would be remembered as a martial artist who relied on “tricks.”

            That infuriated Gohan and had he a speck less honor, he’d have pounded Mr. Satan’s head in for passing such lies. He had to remind himself of that more and more lately.

            He knew Daddy’s stories. Mother and he would tell them to him. He knew how Goku had met Bulma, how he’d gone to train, about their first quest for the dragonballs and the numerous stories in-between. He laid here, doodling in his fury. He’d already created quite a few pictures of Mr. Satan being chewed to bits by some hellish creature and Kami help him, he grinned evilly as he made out the man’s doom. That was unsatisfying though and before long, as it always did, his doodles turned to his father.

            As he worked, Gohan blinked, an idea gathering in his mind. Perhaps, somehow, there was a way for him to spread his father’s legacy. It would take time and a whole lot of luck but he was sure Bulma would help him. The boy ripped the piece of paper he’d been working on off his pad and started fresh, taking careful strokes with his pen until a familiar figure smiled back at him. He worked on the background, drawing up bamboo, monkeys, waterfalls and an old familiar hut. He worked almost night and day on it, only stopping to eat a little. Every so often, he would venture out of his room to ask his mother questions. Occasionally, he’d call Krillin and Bulma and asked them odd inquiries as well, such as “what were you wearing when you met Daddy? How old were you? How were you feeling? What did you say?”

            It felt a lot like an interview at times. Krillin and Bulma came to see him at times and he refused to come out of his room. ChiChi informed them that she wasn’t worried too badly, that Gohan seemed to have some kind of project he was working on. Though, for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it was. The important thing though was that he was doing something. He was doing something besides crying and feeling guilty for something that wasn't even his fault.

            He kept this up for a good month.

            It was late at night when the boy finally emerged, seeking his mother out in the living. “Mom…”

            ChiChi looked up from her mending and smiled “Gohan, I was beginning to think you’d locked yourself in.”

            The boy shook his head “I…I wanted to know if you could help me submit something to get published.”

            “Published?” She blinked, surprised. “Never knew you started writing Gohan.”

            “Well, it isn’t quite a novel…but…” he bit his lip. “it’s a legacy to Daddy.”

            Oh, now her eyes lit up and she gave her son a gentle smile. “Let’s see it.”

            Gohan ran back to his room and returned with a small stack of papers in hand. ChiChi took it and flipped to the first page. Tears welled up in her eyes after a moment. The animals running about the page, the cliffs and trees…but mostly the small monkey tailed boy running atop a piece of wood, waving at all the animals. _Long, long ago, far from civilization…_

            ChiChi flipped forward a few pages.

            A small young girl with braided blue hair. _I’m…Bulma._

A bit further in. A young girl, with a small top and bottoms, running away from a monster while wearing a bladed helmet. _He got my good side..._

            ChiChi closed the stack of pages and looked at the front, finding a color painting of a small monkey tailed boy standing atop a green dragon, waving to the audience. Across the top were the words **Dragonball**

            Gohan bowed his head “it’s just the first bit. It’s gonna take me a while to finish it.” He smiled sadly "Dad had quite a life..."

            ChiChi met her son with tears in her eyes and clutched him tightly, gently stroking his cheeks with her thumbs “if I have to pay for it myself, we’ll get this published, I promise.”

            Gohan smiled at her, despite his tears, “Daddy’s legacy is long, it’ll take me a while. But I want the world to know what _I_ know.”

            She smiled at him, lifted a hand and gently brushed his wild black hair back from his forehead. “I see his legacy every day Gohan.”

            “Huh?” he asked, taking the pages back. “Really?” His face perked with hope for the first time in weeks.

            “Every time I look at you.” She rubbed his head. “You’re becoming more like him every day.”

            Gohan held up the book “I want the world to know the man I called Father!”

            “They will.”


	6. Storytime

                 **_TIME FRAME: JUST AFTER GOKU'S RETURN FROM SPACE; GOHAN IS 7 YEARS OLD_**

           “Daddy!”

            Goku laughed at his son who was running, first out of the living room, then to his bedroom, then back again. While ChiChi worked in the kitchen, refusing Goku's attempts to help, Gohan set about reaquainting his father with every single nook and cranny of the house. Despite her frustration with the situation, Goku could hear her smiling chuckle at their child's enthusiasm. The boy had not been gone two minutes before he was darting back into the main sitting room again. He grasped Goku’s wrist “Daddy, c’mon, come see!”

            “What, what am I seeing?” The Saiyan father planted his feet, teasingly.

            “I wanna show you all the new stuff!” The boy pouted, "C'moooon...."

            Goku laughed, relented a little bit as he was hauled away. He let Gohan do most of the pulling. He had only managed to get off the top and his shoes before Gohan was tugging and demanding his attention. ChiChi, despite having missed him, seemed content to let Gohan steal him for a time. He was glad that she seemed to be over the little huff that had puffed up when he’d explained about the training. He was also not about to reject the attentions of his child, even if he was a little worn down by the day's events.

            He was content to forget that right now as his son drug him down the hall and slammed open the door into his bedroom. He leapt onto his bed, as Goku took a seat beside him, before leaning over so he hung upside down a moment and then coming up, with an armload of things which he darted back to his father with, dropping them in the man's lap. “Grandpa got me that for my birthday! See, it has a pouch where I can hide things. Grandpa remembered I liked dragons. Mother got me a book on dragons, see: it even talks about Shenlong in here!”

            Goku took the items, good naturedly, trying to make sure he didn't drop anything though with the speed that Gohan was pushing them into his arms, it was miracle he managed it. The dragon stuffed toy from the Ox King could have almost overwhelmed Gohan’s size, it was so big. He wasn’t sure what the pouches were for then at closer glance, laughed, seeing it was a model of Shenlong and the seven pouches were for small marbles shaped like the dragonballs. Must have been a custom job. He chuckled, just like that ol’ man to spoil his grandson.

            “And look at the pictures Daddy!” The enthusiastic boy opened the book, pointing, “Look, did you know that there’s different kinds of dragons? I guess Shenlong is a djinn cause he grants wishes. But there’s all kinds of others in here too! Look, this is one that has wings and breathes fire. I thought dragons were good and wise and stuff. Do you think Shenlong knows all the stuff about history Daddy? If he does, why doesn’t he just tell us? Or is it because he wants us to figure it out on our own? I guess these dragons must be cranky or somethin’ because they say they always gotta be killed before they kill other people. Was Shelong like that, at one point? How about Porunga and—oh! Look, this is a water dragon! Isn’t that the same thing as a sea serpent? Why do they have to give them different names? Did two people discover them at the same time? I think that’s silly. Why not just decide on one name and stick with it? They should get together and decide if it’s a serpent or a dragon. And this one is supposed to grant miracles! MIRACLES! What’s the differences between that dragon and Shenlong? Do you think we could seek him out too? And-“

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Goku put a finger on his son’s lips, though he had to struggle not to laugh. “Slow down, little man. I’m not going anywhere.”

            _I'm not going anywhere._ That felt so good to hear. After a year and a half...

            Gohan settled, jostled about then darted out of his room, and amid ChiChi’s “Don’t you make a mess young man!” Gohan returned with a handful of small snacks for himself and his father. It might have looked like a huge meal but for two Saiyans, it was simply a bit of nibbling . He pulled himself onto the bed and handed one plate to his father as he attacked the other one. ChiChi had started on dinner, though they wouldn’t be eating for almost six hours. That meant she was fixing something extra good, hence, her dismissive snack trays.

            “So…what about you, Daddy?”

            “Huh?” Goku lifted his head, pushing two dumplings into his mouth, pausing in mid chew.

            “You just said that you landed on Yardrat and that they taught you that new technique…what else happened?” Gohan locked eyes with his father, his deep longing to understand his absence sparkling out from his bright eyes. The genuine interest and emotional passion behind those eyes made Goku's heart melt and he swallowed, allowing his child to nuzzle against his side "C'mon, Daddy, tell me!" He pouted at his parent "Please?" 

            Goku chuckled, “Well, it’s an odd planet Gohan.” He took a bite of pickled vegetables, noting his son’s not-so-subtle attempts to avoid them, and laughed. "Really small and not much to look at."

            “Really?” Gohan had grown up amid the forest and mountains so the thought of nothing but desert was quite a mind shock. He had been stuck in one when training with Piccolo and it was easily the worst part of it. The woods and forests had not been bad but when there was only sand, rocks and death, well, that was really depressing. A whole planet being like that...he shuddered visibly and Goku smiled in understanding.

            “Yeah, not like here. It was mainly desert, hot. Not like the cool mountains we get here. Couldn’t see much of the sky either.”

            “That doesn’t sound like much fun.” Gohan wrinkled his nose.

            Goku chuckled. "It wasn’t. They didn’t use nature a lot, mainly used technology and tele-whatever techniques.”

            “Were they telekinetic?” Gohan inquired.

            “Tele-what?” Goku asked in confusion, something that Gohan could not help but cover his mouth and giggle at. Daddy's baffled face was always a trip.

            After a moment, Gohan grinned and clarified.  “Could they move stuff just by looking at it?”

            Goku smirked, understanding his son's interest. “if they felt like it.”

            “Why didn’t you learn that, Daddy?” Gohan demanded. "That would be so cool!"

            “Cause I can move it by myself, thank you very much!” he replied, indignant. “And I don’t need you learning that!” He gave his child a teasing glare.

            “Hey!” Gohan protested and yanked his father’s hair spikes, half heartedly. Goku gave a playful ‘yii!’ and Gohan beamed “But I guess I don’t need it. I can make you move without it.”

            “Oh, you think so, little man?” Goku set his plate aside and eyed his child with friendly challenge in his eyes.

            “Know so.” Gohan replied, reached over into his desk drawer and took out a pen. He uncapped it, rounded around his father, his little feet digging into the mattress and jabbed his father in the back, calling “Needle!” with his most high pitched and "scared" voice.

            “NEEDLE?! Where!?” Goku leapt up and flew to the ceiling. Gohan fell onto his back laughing, dropping the 'needle'. Goku caught his breath, looked around then noticed his son’s pen and his red faced laughter induced fit.

            “Not funny, Gohan.” He  folded his arms and floated upside down a moment.

            “Gotcha to move, didn’t I?” The boy countered.

            Gohan swallowed, backing up slightly as his father drifted back to the floor. He slipped forward, slowly. Goku paused, moved the remains of his son's plate to the floor and then sprung at his son, calling “Well, Daddy’s turn now! Get ready for the—“

            “No, no, no! Cheat-er!” he protested, leaping down and attempting to run but Goku snagged his arm, pulled him back and attacked his sides with his fingers.

            “Yep, the Tickle Monster!”

            Gohan squealed, dodged his father’s fingers as best he could, rolling off the bed in the process. His father reached over, snagging the boy’s leg as he tried to escape and pulled him up, holding him upside down by the legs and attacking his sides for a good five minutes, grinning wider each time the boy squealed and laughed. It had been a long year and a half and he’d missed that sound. While the sound of battle made his blood pump and his joy rise, he was sure a thousand times over that he would prefer his son’s laugh.

            Goku finally let go, letting his son bounce harmlessly onto the bed. The boy rolled right side up and grinned. “Daddy, guess what?”

            Goku laid his chin into his hand, smiling at his son’s enthusiasm. “What’s that, little man?”

            “We hadda fight ANOTHER bad guy before Freeza came back!” The child declared, his face bright and smile wide with pride.

            Goku blinked, sitting up a bit straighter “Another one?”

            “Uh huh! Garlic Junior.” The boy declared.

            “He got out of the Dead Zone?” Goku blubbered, startled. “I’ll be—“

            “Yep!” Gohan stood up, bouncing up and down on the bed. “The Makyo Planet came into the right position and made him super-powerful so he escaped. And he tricked and captured Kami and Mr Popo and released this evil…mist on the world.” Gohan made a distorted face when he said ‘evil mist.’ Likewise, he had spread out his fingers, moving them slowly, imitating a witch’s claws. “And that mist made all the evil in people’s hearts take over and everyone went crazy. Mother even attacked me at Master Roshi-“

            “Whoa, your mom actually went there alone?” That was a shock. She might have liked Krillin and tolerated Yamcha and Tien but she had made it pretty clear that she did not trust Master Roshi, much as Goku tried to convince her otherwise. So, the fact that she had agreed to go to that island was baffling.

            Gohan rubbed the back of his neck, a bit nervous all of a sudden.  “Not quite…I kinda snuck off.”

            Goku raised a brow at his son. He knew all too well what Goku thought of him disobeying his mother but the boy quickly defended himself "If I studied anymore I was gonna go nuts!” Before his father could state any sort of response, the child was continuing. “Anyway!” Gohan started again “Garlic Junior sent all these minions. They wanted to get back at you so they wanted me.”

            Goku chuckled, “Well, that’s one of the best ways to do it.” He kept the contented look on his face but inside, the thought of someone...anyone...using his son as a means to get to him was infuriating. If the guy wasn't immortal, he--

            “Why, cause Daddy is affected by the “hero-gene” and hasta come racing the rescue?” His son interrupted his rather morbid thoughts.

            Goku ruffled his son’s hair with a smile. “Maybe…I think it’s more because you’re my son. You don’t mess with my family, I don’t care who you are.” He added "And no one gets away with messing with you, little man."

            Gohan grinned “ They had their work cut out though! Piccolo and Krillin pretended that they were affected by the Black Mist and stuff and they attacked me so that they could get Junior’s guard down and stole back Popo and Kami. Then, those two went to release the Sacred Water to cleanse the Black Water Mist from the world. Junior said too much time had passed but there’s this area where all the winds blow from and so Popo and Kami went down there and Krillin, Piccolo and I got to handle Garlic and his minions.”

            Goku smiled as his son stood up and took on a fighting stance, bouncing slightly as he gathered his balance. “So, we were all hyaa! Hyaa hyaa!” he said, swinging his fists and tumbling onto his back once. He stood back up and took on his stance again. Goku moved the desk chair, turning it around backwards and watching his son act out his little adventure atop the bed. He laid his chin onto his arms, smirking.

            “And then Garlic Junior got all huge from the Makyo Planet. I mean he really went like—sploosh!” he spread out his arms. He stood up again. “Then Junior brought out the Dead Zone again and I had to play shield to keep Piccolo and Krillin from being sucked up. But they got all mad that I wasn’t attacking so they flew outta the shield.” Here, Gohan pouted. “Idiots.”

            Goku chuckled. “And tell me, if they hadn’t done that, how long do you think you would have held that shield?”

            Gohan blinked “Long as my ki held out.”

            “And when it fell, what would have been done?” No accusation, just simple inquiry.

            “We’d have all died…I guess.” Gohan said slowly, head lowered slightly and playing with the threads of his comforter with his foot. “Sucked into the Dead Zone.”

            “So…you think that was a good thing they did?” Again, Goku just prompted gently, waiting for his son to come to the conclusion on his own. Always worked better that way.

            Gohan pouted again, a child upset that he was proved wrong. “Guess so…” he looked up at his father. “Then, after they fled out, I followed them and Piccolo told me to blow up the Makyo Planet.”

            Gohan leapt up, landing on his headboard, balancing himself. “And so I went “hyaa!” and let out this super big blast and the whole planet went KABLOOEY!” Gohan tumbled onto his face, off of the headboard and face down onto his mattresses at the last word. He rolled onto his back and laughed, saying “Then Garlic Junior shrunk down to this _tiny little_ raisin and he went scloop! Back into the Dead Zone.” He grinned. “And we won.”

            Goku smirked, walked over and lifted his son up so he rested on his shoulders “So my little man beat his first bad guy, huh?”

            Gohan beamed. “Yep!”

            Goku grinned up at his son, reaching up and thumbing his nose. “You know what that means right?”

            “Huh?” Gohan blinked.

            “Party!’ Goku responded and with that flew out, grabbed ChiChi by the hand amid her "Goku!!" and taking into the air “Don’t worry about that right now, Chi. Let’s go eat out!”

            “Goku--?” She stared in pure shock but seeing his huge smile, seeing his eyes, seeing their son's bright laughter, she caved into a smile herself.

            Goku beamed, moved ChiChi to his back and sped up. “Yeah, on me. Just the three of us.” He pulled Gohan down so he was cradled in his arms.

            With a smile so bright, it was blinding, Gohan hugged his father tightly. “The _three_ of us…that’s so good to hear again.”

            ChiChi's tight hug from behind was all the agreement they needed.


	7. Springtime Frolic

            _**TIME FRAME: JUST BEFORE THE ANDROIDS ARRIVE; GOHAN IS TEN YEARS OLD**_

 

           “Daddy…Mom…Daddy…Mom…”

            It was not an unpleasant chanting but it was quite early to be hearing it, especially so close to her ear. ChiChi blinked, her vision clearing on the image of her son, frantically clamoring for her or Goku's attention. He smiled at her in greeting, still dressed in his nightclothes, but with all the enthusiasm of a five year old.  ChiChi simply blinked in confusion a moment, rubbed her eyes and reached over, turning her clock so she could see the face. “Gohan, it’s five AM.”

            The small preteen, still grinning, shook her shoulder then darted over her, seeming to forget he was no longer as light as he once was and shook his father. Planting on the man's back like an odd little monkey, he pushed his weight into his father's shoulders. “Daddy! Up. Wake up.”

            Goku rolled over, causing his son to jump off and to the ground, rubbing at his eyes, yawning. “What Gohan?”

            “Get up, we hafta get ready!” The boy declared, sounding a bit frustrated.

            “Get…ready?”

            Gohan darted to the wall, turning on the light. Both his parents responded to this with a groan. Goku threw his arm over his face. ChiChi buried her face and moaned “Gohan, go back to bed. It’s too early.”

            “Nu uh.” He protested, with a firm shake of his head. “Don'cha remember?”

            ChiChi rubbed her eyes and sat up as her son leapt onto his father’s stomach and pried his arm off his face “C’mon, don’t you remember Daddy?”

            Goku sat up, along with his wife. Gohan jumped off the bed again and opened the window, pointing. “The cherry blossoms are blooming. Remember, they’re doing the cultural festival today this year!”

            Goku laid the covers aside and swung his feet down off the bed, scratching the side of his face. He’d forgotten that. The cultural festival changed year by year and this year they’d decided to have it around the same time as the cherry blossoms began to bloom. He’d promised Gohan and ChiChi he’d take them. It wasn’t too far away if they flew but ChiChi wanted to go as a regular family and make use of Goku’s new driver’s license so it’d be a decent two hour trip. Hence, Gohan’s waking them up so early.

            “Alright, little man. I’m up, I’m up.” Goku caved, stretching.

            “Yaah!” Gohan leapt down and out of the room, rushing to the indoor wash room. ChiChi opened one eye at her husband before she sat up herself, stretching.

            “You going to grab breakfast on the way out?” she asked. Goku smiled

            “I don’t see what harm some fast food’ll do him today.”

            Normally, ChiChi would argue about how bad that was for her son but she’d be preaching to the choir. She knew Goku enough to know that as much as he was physically active, he was very much aware of how important nutrition was. That was one thing she and he could usually agree on without much issue.

            And like her husband, she saw no harm in it, especially since getting ready would take some time. It was unusual that they took out their kimonos but on cultural festivals and holidays, they made a point of it, even Goku who normally was never without his orange gi. He got up to go join his son in the bathroom. ChiChi smirked and went to go through her closet. After they came out, she’d wash herself off. Besides, if she knew Gohan, he’d still need a little help with his kimono. It wasn’t something he wore a lot.

            She smiled, opened the closet to the right side and started to thumb through her selection of designs.

* * *

 

            Gohan paused, considering his choices. Kimonos were expensive, even the yukata. Still, he had many. Grandpa had given him some and Mother had made him several others. Still, he wasn’t sure which one to wear. He couldn’t use a regular kimono, they were too heavy for the lukewarm weather. That narrowed it down to his yukata.

            “Hey!”

            Gohan yelped as ice cold water spilled down his head. He turned, glaring at his father who was laughing, holding the handheld showerhead. He snarled and swung at his father playfully. Goku dodged him and sprayed him with the water again. Gohan yelped and charged him, calling “Cheater, cheater!”

            Goku just laughed again, using the brief break to rinse the soap out of his own hair. He caught Gohan’s punch with his other hand and flipped the boy over his arm, spraying at his bare sides with the cold water. At a close range like that, it tickled and burned slightly. Gohan sprung from his father’s grip and positioned his feet, moving his arms upward to a standard guard.

            Goku beamed, falling into the same position. He didn’t say anything but moved his fingers slightly, in a downward motion, silently telling his son to bring it on. Gohan needed no other motivation and with a laugh, he charged his father, swinging his fists. Goku dodged a great many of them but several of them connected and several of them he caught. It was a sight that ChiChi would have been horrified to see--her husband and son, stark naked and sparring, but given she was occupied, the father-son pair decided to make the most of it.

            Dodging his father’s next attack, Gohan’s feet landed on the wet floor, slipping out from under him a moment. He hit the ground, was reminded quite sharply that he had no padding on his backside but was immediately back up and charging his father again. Goku would get in a hit or two, Gohan would get in a hit or two and then the father Saiyan would spray his son with the showerhead, which despite his best efforts, Gohan was unable to gain ownership of. Goku did this, back and forth for quite some time. After about thirty minutes though, he pulled Gohan close, hosing him down again.

            Walking out, he tossed a towel to his son, before wrapping one around himself. “Go get dressed Gohan. We don’t wanna be late right?”

            Gohan beamed and ran out and into his bedroom. He surmised that Daddy had stopped before Mother heard all the commotion. In hindsight, the slippery bathroom floor was not the best place to be sparring anyway! Though, it was a great practice!

            Gohan opened some of his drawers, looking through the three yukata that he had. He debated them a little longer before pulling out one of his favorites. Mother had made this one though he suspected that she’d made it with some influence from his father. Being a child’s kimono, it was much brighter and more designed than his father’s but for the moment, he liked it that way. Red base with green Chinese style dragons stitched all over it. He didn’t want to know how long it had taken Mother to make it.

            All the same, it was hard as ever to put on.

            That was the result of not wearing them much. It wasn’t too complicated but Gohan still found it difficult to do himself. It wasn’t so much the tying as it was remembering how everything went, given that it wasn’t a common dress he wore. According to Goku, he'd worn one as a baby and one when he was three but he didn't remember any of that. After a moment, the boy wrapped the left side around his body, overlapped it with the right and tied the green obi around his waist. He frowned, realizing that, like always, he’d forgotten to put on his socks and sandals first. He was trying to figure out how to do this when Goku walked in.

            Gohan looked up, beaming. Daddy always looked awesome in a kimono. It was one of the rare times that ChiChi could get her husband out of that gi. Dark navy blue base with silver kanji of their family name. Goku eyed his son a moment then burst out laughing. Gohan scowled “it’s not funny, Dad!”

            “Well, I didn’t know my son was dead.” The father exclaimed in-between guffaws.

            “Huh?” Gohan looked down at himself.

            Goku walked over, untied the boy’s obi and unwrapped the yukata. Eyeing his son, he smirked, repeating an old rhyme his grandfather had told him so many years ago. “Right touches skin,” as he spoke, he wrapped the right side of the kimono around his son’s body. “Left tucks it in.” He wrapped the left side over the right and then tied the boy’s obi again. Gohan blinked then laughed out loud.

            “Guess I was dead, huh?” he remarked and sat on his bed as Goku helped him pull on his socks. It was easier than getting undressed to put them on first. He held his sandals to put on outside.

            Goku laughed “A regular walkin’ corpse, son.”

            Gohan blushed slightly but knew his father was joking. It seemed he always got that confused. The left side was only wrapped first when dressing the dead. He didn’t know why he had such a hard time remembering that.

            “You two coming?”

            Gohan looked up, beamed “You look pretty Mom!”

            ChiChi smiled at her son, adjusting her own yukata. Given the summer weather, she had opted for the cherry blossom design over an ivory base, one she didn’t use a lot. She smiled at her son and husband and gestured them onward “Well, you’re the one who wanted to go so bad Gohan. So let’s go…”

* * *

 

            “Daddy, can I do the goldfish scooping? Can I?”

            Goku laughed. “Hold on, Gohan, we just got here.”

            The boy turned around, waiting as his parents made their way through the selection of booths. There were all kinds of offerings, mainly demonstrations of dress, art, and yes, of course, food. The smell was intoxicating and although he’d just eaten breakfast, Gohan had to admit many of the treats were calling to him. Seeing children walking by with handfuls of poxy sticks were not helping.

            “Please, Daddy?”

            ChiChi chuckled, despite herself and remarked to Goku, “Well, let him get it out of his system.”

            “Alright, goldfish scooping it is then!”

            Gohan ran ahead of his parents, though not enough to get out of their eyesight, though that was more because of the restrictions of the kimono than anything. While it was a favorite of children, goldfish scooping was something the adults liked to do too. The booth was pretty popular, with a crowds of parents and children already.  Gohan ran up, with nary a delay, and immediately gazed down at the pool full of yellow and orange fish. “How much to play?” he asked the three women running the booth.

            The elder one, smiled at him. “Five zeenie for three scoops.”

            Gohan turned, eyes shining “Daddy, can I please?”

            Rummaging through his kimono top, Goku handed his son a bill. “Go on.”

            Gohan snatched the bill like it would catch fire and handed it to the woman running the booth. She took it, with a small bow and smile of thanks before handing Gohan three poi. The boy studied them, as he knew very well how weak the paper was and that the task of scooping a goldfish up was no small task.

            Taking the small bowl he was handed, the boy sat on his knees, pushing his kimono sleeves up a little bit. He fixated his eyes into the small man-made pond. He slipped the first poi in slowly. The water pressure put a little bit of weight on the weak paper so Gohan moved it slowly. He had his eyes fixated onto a small white and yellow fish. It stood out from the rest.

            Slowly..slowly…

            “Aw!” he groaned as his paper gave way, leaving the poi useless. He frowned and put it to the side before heading in with his second poi. There were several other fish that darted past and clung to the walls, which would have made for a easier catch but Gohan wanted one in particular; thus, he was unwilling to relent.

            The second one gave away.

            Frowning, Gohan set the empty frame down and took up his last one. He moved that was as slow as he could. He saw it started ot give away so he held it still for a moment before pursuing his fish again. This time, he got the edge of its fin before it wriggled out his path, popping the remaining paper away in the process.

            Gohan sat back, stared at his empty net and tossed it down “Darn it.”

            Goku helped his son stand up and smiled “You did a good job though, little man.”

            Gohan, not about to be a sore loser, nodded.

            ChiChi was waiting for them and commented that she’d very much like to see some of the traditional dances. Goku, always agreeable Goku, followed her, Gohan following. The dances were done at specific times of day so they were lucky enough to catch one of the Ryukyu dances. Gohan had never been overly interested in it but Mother loved that kind of stuff. Gohan had to admit that the kimonos were rather detailed and elaborate, as well as the props and fans they would carry.

            However, their motions were slow and while obviously expressive, he found himself bored stiff.

            Mother, however, was drinking it up. She would comment every so often about how the person’s choice of footstep was a demonstration of sadness or happiness.

            To Gohan, it was pretty and definitely a display of skill and balance but he saw little significance beyond that.

            After about an hour, Gohan glanced around, trying to find something to arouse his interest. His wandering mind caught a small booth off to side, doing origami. He was good at that! Slipping from his father’s side, he slipped out of the crowd slowly and quietly, so not to disturb the audience or the performers and rushed to the small booth. The fee was small, only two zennie, which he had himself. He’d brought some of his own allowance so he handed two to the gentleman running to booth and then sat, captivated.

* * *

 

            Stretching, Goku glanced around to grab his son’s hand as ChiChi looked for their next stop. When he found his boy no longer by his side, his heart tripled in speed. His previous battles were surely a measure of strength and determination but to Goku, he was forever a child and forever HIS child. He knew full well he was capable of taking care of himself but in a big crowd like this, odd fears sprung up in his heart. When ChiChi took note of his agitated state, she was quick to mirror his panic.

            For once, he and his wife were pondering the same thing. That was the fact that their little boy had been kidnapped from their very arms.

            One might find this an odd fear for two fighters well known for overcoming odds. Truth be told, there was little enemy Goku couldn’t handle and little enemy that would dare to look ChiChi in the face and not wince. Not many alive that could escape a skirmish with their child unscathed. One might think someone kidnapping their son would be the least of their worries but that fear was particularly strong within this family.

            Gohan had been taken at four years of age.

            Gone a year, and no doubt better for it, the fear and worry from such an event ran deep.

            ChiChi muscled her way through the crowd of people, Goku just behind her. Goku was trying to scan the landscape for his son but ChiChi had no intention of letting his whereabouts remain unknown for any longer than necessary. Though she hounded her young son for good manners and to carry himself as an intelligent and proper member of society, when she was panicked, her hick nature emerged, through and through.

            “Outta my way! Move it!”

            It was a rare person who remained in the way of a woman that spoke as she had. They dodged and moved, much like a savanna emptied to make way for a ruthless lion. ChiChi’s eyes were fixated, searching. Finally, she let out a sigh of deep relief and with Goku on her heels, she stormed over to one of the booths not too far off, she grasped a familiar young shoulder.

* * *

            “Son Gohan!”

            Gohan yelped in surprise and turned around, stopping his current project. “Oh, hi Mom.”

            “Don’t you “hi” me, Mister!” She scolded him, harshly and rather loudly at that, making his face turn dark red as several curious eyes looked him over. “What were you thinkin’? Running off like that!?”

            “I didn’t think I was running off…” He began but she wasn't done.

            “Were we with you?” She spat.

            “Uh no…but-" He tried again, attempted to remind her that he wasn't a weak little boy anymore but she wasn't hearing it.

            “We had no clue where you went Gohan!”

            The boy’s face burned red again. “Mother, do you hafta yell like that, in front of all these people?”

            “Then maybe you’ll listen, Gohan!” She did lower her voice a little though but he had scared her to death!

            Gohan, looked her face over then spied his salvation. “Daddy!”

            Gohan stopped in his sudden desire to rush over to his father though. While Mother’s eyes had looked angry and furious, Goku’s eyes gazed at him so wide that Gohan thought his father might cry. That was not a look he saw on his father often. The older Saiyan walked over, fell to his knees and embraced his son tightly before pulling away.

            “Gohan, you scared me.”

            “I…scared you? That’s what Mother said.” The preteen was truly baffled and it showed in his face.

            “We didn’t know where you were Gohan!” Goku didn’t yell but there was a definite harshness to his tone. “We thought something happened to you.”

            “I was just right here, Daddy—“

            ChiChi broke in. “But we didn’t know that Gohan. For all we knew, you could have been snatched away from us again!” Here, her harsh tone had cooled considerably and she sounded suspiciously close to tears.

            Gohan cocked his head at both his parents. Those thoughts had never occurred to him. Didn’t his parents trust him?

            “I can take care of myself..” He began.

            “It isn’t you I don’t trust, Gohan.” ChiChi remarked. “It’s everyone else.”

            “You’re a very strong little boy, Gohan.” Goku that time. “But you’re not invincible.”

            Gohan eyed his father. He didn’t understand their concern, at least not why they were as scared as they seemed to be but he understood he’d upset them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”  

            At those simple words, Goku grinned. Those simple words wiped away all wrong doing it seemed. “You just need to tell us where you’re going…”

            “Goku, in a big crowd like this?” ChiChi inquired, worried. The mother in her, no doubt.

            “Ah, Gohan can handle himself, long as I know where to find him.” He remarked simply.

            Gohan nodded to his father “I’ll tell you now, Daddy. I didn’t mean to-“

            “I know, Gohan.” Goku stood and Gohan followed. “it’s over and done.”

            Gohan turned to his mother, his still frantic mother and made a peace offering. “Mom, here, for you." 

            She met her little boy’s eyes and he held out a small hair pin for her. He’d attached an origami flower to it. She chuckled, despite her still racing heart and pinned it up in her hair. “Suck up.”

            “Is it working?” he asked and ran to his father’s side.

* * *

 

            “You spoil him you know.” ChiChi commented as they sat down underneath a cherry tree later that day, each munching on their own handful of foods. Goku had made him get a rice bowl and a steamed bun but the rest of the food was pure junk. Still, as much as she teased Goku on it, she was guilty of it herself. How could they not when their child was usually so well behaved?

            Goku just laughed, taking the time to enjoy resting. He laid against the tree trunk and Gohan sprawled out next to him, chewing on the snow cone his father had bought for him. It managed to stain his entire face a rainbow of colors but he was enjoying it and eating so Goku opted not to say much on it. The day was wearing on and the time for the late day dances and ceremonies were starting to build up. ChiChi had been determined to have Gohan sit through one dance and he had agreed.

            After his heart stopping incident earlier, he felt he owed it to her.

            She, in turn, had promised that it wouldn’t be as long as the earlier ceremony.

            Gohan had his doubts but for now, he was content to stick by his father’s side. Goku caught his son’s look and ruffled his hair. Looking at ChiChi, he remarked. “ChiChi, but you already said you wanted to do the Tea Ceremony later, right?”

            She nodded “Of course.”

            “Well, why don’t we do what Gohan wants to do for a bit then the ceremony? It’s kinda unfair to have him go to all these dances you want to go to and also go to a tea ceremony. He’s a kid.”

            “But it’s stuff he needs to learn!”

            Gohan eyed her. “Mom, I don’t have any plans to hire a geisha anytime soon.”

            “I should hope not…”

            “BUT I probably will do a tea ceremony one day.” Gohan sat up as he ate. "Why don’t we do the tea ceremony and do what Daddy wants to do instead of the extra dance?”

            ChiChi had every intention of pushing her view but Gohan was looking up at her with those wide eyes that always seemed able to melt a glacier. Truth be told, they had been doing what she’d wanted since they got there. It _would_ be more fair to see what Goku wanted to do. Taking a deep sigh of defeat, she eyed her husband

            “Point taken. Goku ,where do we go next?”

            Goku pondered this moment, looking over the festival booths before pointing into the center,

            “Where they do the fighting.”

            ChiChi groaned; why did she not see that coming? Didn’t he get enough of that? Still, she had turned their next entertainment over to her husband and she wasn’t about to go back on her word. So, seeing Gohan lick the last of his cone empty, she stood. Goku wiped his mouth on his sleeve (much to her dismay) and hoisted Gohan onto his shoulder. “Let’s go then!” As they trotted off, ChiChi reached up, handing her son a napkin and motioning to his chin. He took the silent command and cleaned up without a word.

            The family of three approached the stage in the center of the booths. There wasn’t much of a stage, mainly just a raised wooden platform. It seemed to be a free fighting ring. People would come up, choose their weapon and their opponent and fight. No real rules, just a friendly spar mainly. For Gohan, this was downright fascinating. Fighting, interesting enough, became a thousand times more interesting with weapons and old fashioned attire. To Gohan, seeing all these folks fight in kimonos was the definition of exciting.

            Two people using katanas left the stage, leaving it clear for the next contestants.

            No one stepped up so Goku grinned, set Gohan down and leapt up on stage. He turned around and called

           “C’mon Chi!”

            Gohan about choked. His mother? Fight?

            ChiChi eyed Goku with slightly flushed cheeks. “Oh, Goku…”

            “C’mon, c’mon, you said we could do what I wanted. I wanna do an old fashioned spar!” He pouted like a little child. "please?"

            ChiChi pondered this a moment then turned to her son, handing him her small packages that she had picked up at various art booths. “Hold these for me, Gohan.” She asked softly. Why was it that she could never stay mad nor resist her goofball of a husband? Sometimes love could make one do odd things and seeing him smile was enough to make her relent to one spar.

           Gohan accepted the packages but set them on the ground as he also sat to watch. ChiChi climbed up onto stage, eyeing her husband with a slightly amused look. She fell into that old stance, grinning at him.

            Goku beamed and charged her, tossing out a punch.

            ChiChi dodged and swung her leg out, nailing Goku behind the knees.

            He leapt up, unaffected and swung behind her, grasping her around the shoulders.

            Leaping up, she pushed off her husband’s thighs and slammed her feet backwards and into his chin, making him release her. Landing on her feet, she charged him again.

            Gohan watched this open mouthed. Since when was his mother a fighter? He knew she used to be a martial artist but to actually see it in live action was awe-inspiring.

            Goku caught ChiChi’s next punch, throwing her into the air. She righted herself in the sky and as she came back down, she landed a hard kick to her husband’s left cheek. He turned and she swung around so she straddled him and locked her arms in a choke hold around his neck. The sudden pressure made Goku stumble a moment before he grabbed her waist and flung her off his back.

            ChiChi slid slightly but caught her traction, with a little difficulty. She was unused to fighting in a kimono, and sandals for that matter. If she hadn’t become caught up in the battle, she probably would have noticed that her kimono was showing signs of the wear and tear of sparring. However, she had slipped back into her old Ox-Princess Fighter mode.

            Goku caught her elbow and she swung her left leg around, slamming straight into his ankle, making his balance falter. Jerking her elbow up, she knocked it into his shoulder joint and sprung from his grip, pushing against the floor with her hands, righting herself and putting up her guard again.

            Goku rubbed his shoulder and laughed “Hey, you’re still pretty strong, ChiChi! Have you been training?”

            An old grin, the likes of which he hadn’t seen in years spread over her face, “If you wanna know, you’ll have to beat me.” She mirrored that old tournament match that started this wonderful life for her and added "So, c'mon..."

            Goku beamed and charged her again.

            She leapt into the air, charging down at him with her foot again. Goku caught her foot this time and carefully and gently tossed her off the stage. She bent her knees to absorb the impact and climbed back up. “You still have it Goku.”

            “I should. I’m surprised at you though, Chi! I swear you’ve been training!”

            She shrugged. “Not much, every so often though.”

            She turned and laughed out loud at her son’s wide mouthed look. “Son Gohan, close that mouth! You are not a fish.”

            “Mom! Wow!”

            She chuckled. “Didn’t think your mom could do that, ne?”

            “Well…no.” He admitted with a shrug.

            “Oh? Get up here then.” She planted her hands on her hips.

            “huh?” Gohan blinked. Was his mother seriously suggesting...

            “You heard me young man, come spar with me. I know you can, you bug me enough about it.” She crossed her arms "So let's go."

            Gohan stared at her a moment more then climbed clumsily up onto the stage. Goku leapt down, taking Gohan’s place on the sidelines and sitting there, rested his chin on his hands.

            ChiChi charged her son.

            Gohan went to jump but his kimono, still tight around his legs caught his knees, refusing to let him go very high. ChiChi swung a fist at him. He yelped and swiftly blocked it before swinging his own fists out.

            ChiChi grasped the arm of his kimono and flipped him over her arm. Gohan’s feet unused to the zori sandals slid out from under him and he rolled out of the way as his mother’s foot came down at him. He kicked upward, nailing her in stomach, sending her flying. She caught her balance and leapt over him, charging him from the side.

            Gohan dodged her, but his feet slid on the unfamiliar floor. He cursed his clumsiness and ChiChi’s next punch caught his chin.

            “C’mon Gohan! Show her what you can do!”

            Daddy’s cheering, as always, made him smile and focus.

            “C’mon ChiChi! Show ‘em what yer made of.”

            And of course, Daddy couldn’t cheer just one.

            Gohan fell to his knees, dodging ChiChi’s next kick and nailed her in the knee. She went sprawling, unable to catch her balance and Gohan was up and charging her.

            Attempting to anyway.

            Kimono were NOT a good thing to fight in.

            Nor were zori sandals!

            Especially for a child not accustomed to using them anymore!

            Gohan’s knees caught, again and he went sprawling. ChiChi kicked him in the side as he stumbled and he fell off the slightly elevated platform.

            Goku caught him in his arms, laughing.

            “She’s pretty good, eh, little man?”

            Gohan’s face went blood red. “Not fair.”

            ChiChi jumped down. “Oh, why?”

            He pointed up at his father “Daddy, you have on hakama!”

            Goku grinned; he couldn’t argue that point. While he wore his blue kimono, it was more like a haori or old fashion coat. Since he was an adult, he wore hakama when they went formal. Black split pleated pants. He had debated whether to wear them or not but ultimately had decided to. It was no secret that that _had_ made the spar a bit easier. Still… “Your mom didn’t.” he reminded his red faced child as he stood.

            Gohan pouted and ChiChi ruffled his hair, something usually only Daddy did. He threw her hand off, his way of reminding her that that was Daddy’s thing. She stroked his hair out his face. “Don’t pout Gohan. It’s take a bit to learn to fight in a kimono.”

            “So, you did that on purpose cause you knew how and knew I didn’t.” He accused her.

            “Maybe that’s something _I_ can teach you.” She added a shrug, smiling.

            Gohan, though embarrassed, laughed finally. “No, Daddy just needs to let me wear hakama next time.”

            ChiChi chuckled. “You get those when you become a man, Gohan.”

            “I AM a man!”

            She laughed “Are you?”

            Gohan puffed out his chest, like a bird trying to show off. “Yep!”

            Goku standing behind him, smirked “You are, ne?”

            Gohan looked up at his father. “Yes, I am!” To ChiChi, he declared as they walked, “It should be Gohan-KUN, not Gohan-CHAN!” he pondered as he walked and added “Or even SON-kun!”

            Goku smirked “Oh, Mister High and Mighty are you?”

            “No, but I’m not a little kid.” Gohan protested. He hadn’t meant to come off sounding pompous but he _wasn’t_ a little kid anymore either. Hakama, while a small thing, were nonetheless a symbol of maturity and it was something he longed for. To be an adult and be seen by others as capable of handling himself. Even with the others, despite how strong he was, he was still a child in their eyes. He wanted to be an  equal.

            “So, you’re a man, now, eh?”

            Gohan nodded to his father. “I _am_!”

            Goku stretched, “Well, I guess you can buy your own dinner then eh?”

            ‘Huh?”

            “Well, if you’re a man, then that means I pass my role down to you, doesn’t it? So, Chi, next time you need something, make sure you tell the man of the house.”

            Chichi chuckled “Oh,  I will. Think you can make sure we get some groceries next week Gohan? Oh and the electricity bill is coming up too. I could also—“

            “I don’t have that kinda money!”

            “Oh, why not?” Goku asked, teasing gently but to make a point. “It’s the man’s job to provide.”

            “but I don’t got a job!”

            “Well, might wanna work on that then, eh?”

            Gohan pouted, frowned, folded his arms. Goku reached out, ruffled his hair. "Daddy, you don't have a job either."

            Goku smirked "No but I bring in food from the forest and handle the handiwork in the house. You can do that, right?"

            A deeper scowl.

            “Don’t pout, Gohan-KUN.” He said, stressing the older suffix.

            Gohan winced; that didn’t sound as good as it had a little bit ago. Still, he refused to give in. “I’m not pouting.”

            “Alright then, I guess we should head for the tea ceremony then.”

            Gohan looked up and Goku stretched. “Well, your mother wanted to go and if you’re a man then I think you should go too, don’t you think?”

            Gohan pondered this. A tea ceremony was no minor thing. Before now, he had been deemed too young. They had warned him that the ceremony was too long and he would get very bored. They had said that most adults had difficulty with it. Still, Gohan was a determined one and if someone said that children couldn’t handle it then what better way to show he wasn’t a child?

            “Yeah, let’s go.”

 

* * *

            Boring…

            That was being generous!

            Why did there have to be a million different positions to do to just boil water for tea? Why did there have to be a specific way to sit and why was it in such an uncomfortable position? Gohan’s feet felt like they were being stabbed by dozens of pins and needles and besides that, they felt numb. He was certain they were going to fall off.

            Turning his eyes slightly, he almost groaned, exasperated.

            Neither his father nor his mother had such a look on their faces. Rather, they looked like statues, so calm and stoic. Eyes closed, absorbing the smells of the room. Gohan took a breath but tried to mimic his father’s expression and his mother's posture. The hostess returned after what seemed like forever and poured the tea before presenting the bowl to his father.

            Goku bowed, turned the bowl several times before taking a sip. Wiping the rim when he finished, he turned it back to its original position then passed it to him.

            Gohan’s breath caught in his throat.

            What was he supposed to do?

            He’d read on these and heard about them but to never do it was another matter all together. Father had turned it, for some reason, but how long was he supposed to do that for? And what was he supposed to say, if anything? Everything was so quiet. He didn’t know if he was even sitting right, let alone accepting the bowl right.

            His palms grew sweaty and feeling desperate, his pride caved. Being an adult, acting like an adult, this was no fun! Least not yet! It was rather frightening actually.

            Shifting his panicked eyes to meet his father’s, he whispered.

            “Well…’ he stressed. “Maybe I can stay a kid a little bit longer.”

            Goku smirked in response and placed his own hands over his son’s. “You don’t drink from the front,” he advised. “You turn it so that you drink from the back. You also admire the bowl. It’s probably an old heirloom, Gohan. When you drink, close your eyes, take in the tea that way. The smell, the feel, all of that. That’s the experience of a tea ceremony.”

            Gohan, relieved at the advice, did as told before wiping off the rim and turning it back around and passing it to his mother. She took it gratefully and repeated the same motions before returning it to the hostess. The hostess stood and bowed deeply. Goku rose, then ChiChi. Gohan followed their movements. They bowed deeply, thanking their hostess before taking leave towards the door.

            Gohan limped out behind his parents.

            Goku chuckled “What’s wrong, little man?”

            Gohan grinned, actually relieved to hear that old nickname.

            “I can’t feel my feet! Ow!”

            ChiChi laughed. “Well, what did you think, Gohan?”

            Gohan eyed her. “That was so boring!”

            Goku lifted Gohan into his arms. “Maybe but it is something important. I’m proud of you, little man! You did really well!”

            At the praise, Gohan beamed. “Really? That was really hard.”

            ChiChi chuckled. “You held out very well though Gohan.” She praised "I was a lot older than you before I could finally sit through one."

            Satisfied with that, Gohan nodded. “_NOW_ can we have some fun?”

            Goku chuckled. “A little bit. How about you pick the last thing?”

            Gohan looked skyward. He hadn’t even noticed the sun had gone down. He frowned; way too soon for this to be over! His sharp ears caught a thudding in the distance. “Can we go listen to the drums?”

            Goku smiled and hoisted Gohan onto his shoulders. “Sure, kiddo.”

            The drums were something everyone could appreciate. If anything, the whole Son family could appreciate music and the familiar rhythm as well as the impressive movements were something to be admired. Gohan stared, taking in every stroke, every pound. He had the best view, perched on his tall father's shoulders and it was an awesome sight! Lots of heart in that practice! The drumming was always pretty long though. By the time they had gotten to the last drum, he had to admit he was hungry and tired.

            However, as they walked out, he stopped his father.

            “Daddy!”

            “Hmm?” The Saiyan father glanced down at his offspring.

            Gohan leaned over, stood on his tiptoes, looking his father in the eyes. “Can I try the goldfish scooping one more time, please?”

            Goku thought a moment then smirked. “ONE more time.”

           Kneeling down, he gave the boy another bill and then gave ChiChi another wad to go and grab them some dinner. He waited for his son. The boy would sit, hunched over the pool, staring for a long while. Goku saw two broken poi go on the ground and then Gohan was sitting there for another long span time. ChiChi returned, food in hand and he was still there.

            Goku waited.

            “DADDY!” Finally, came that shout.

            “What, Gohan?” he called as he and ChiChi walked over, nearly bowled over by an enthusiastic child.

            Gohan held up a bowl in triumph. “I got it!”

            Looking down, Goku smirked as, sure enough, there was a single fish circling the dish and embraced his son. “You did, huh?”

            “Uh huh!” Gohan handed the bowl to woman running it and she poured the fish and some water into a bag for him. “It was the fish I wanted this morning!”

            “that same fish?” Goku asked.

            Gohan nodded. “yeah! It tried to get away but I caught it!”

            Gohan took his prize from the woman and grinned at his father. Goku hugged him tightly.

            “I’m proud of you Gohan.”

            ChiChi added "That takes a lot of skill and patience. Good job!"

            Beaming with pride, Gohan held the bag tightly as he walked with his mother and father out from the booths. Goku took a seat underneath a cherry tree and ChiChi followed, spreading out their dinner. Gohan downed it like mad, grinning. With the quiet though, he found himself reflecting, on earlier. Man, he had been a little brat! As he swallowed, he spoke up

            “Daddy? Mom?”

            They looked up, pausing in their eating.

            “Sorry I got kinda…snooty earlier.” That was the best way to describe it.

            Goku rubbed his son’s hair. “You’re a kid, Gohan. I expect it.”

            ChiChi smiled. “But we appreciate the apology Gohan. _THAT_ is the sign of a man; maturity is in you, not your clothes, okay?” Her maternal smile warmed his heart.

            Gohan nodded, grateful that there was no underlying anger. He didn’t remember much else. He stood and walked with his father to the car, helping his mother load their packages into the trunk. He remembered climbing into the backseat and just watching the landscape swirl by. He remembered thanking his parents…

           

            ChiChi looked into the backseat and smiled widely. When Goku came to a stopping place, she elbowed him and he looked back.

            Gohan had turned onto his side, laid down, and slept, his fish still clutched tightly in hand. Goku smirked, took off his kimono top and draped it over his son before turning lights towards home. A day full of events like this had a strong toll on a child. Goku went slow over bumps, not wanting to wake his son.

            He needn’t had bothered.

            When Mount Paouz finally came into view, ChiChi went inside to get Gohan’s bed ready. Goku opened the back door and wrapping the edge of the kimono top around the boy like a blanket, Goku lifted the child, slowly, into his large arms, cradling him tightly. Gohan stirred slightly, pushing into his father’s warmth.

            “Sleep, little man.”


	8. Perfection

**_TIME FRAME: DIRECTLY IN THE AFTERMATH OF BUU; GOHAN IS 17, GOTEN IS 7_ **

 

            Truth be told, this wasn’t the best situation he’d ever been in.

            Oh, it wasn’t hard, not by a long shot. Dad’s warm up drills took more energy than this.

            Just the same, it was…not his common position in his school.

            Standing in the hall with a bucket of water was humiliating.

            Gohan’s cheeks flushed any time he thought anyone was turning the corner because people would whisper about it.  His Saiyan hearing meant he heard every scoff and tease. After all, he was known as the school genius, something he hated with a passion, despite any truth in that statement. That meant people were always watching him, always seeing how he could mess up and it seemed today was his day to do so. Hearing it made it even worse.

            Gohan was rather surprised himself. If he was punished for anything, it was never for talking back but this day, that was exactly what he had done and rather snappy about it too, snarling an answer at the teacher like he was an animal. Videl’s eyes had nearly fallen out of their head and Erasa and Sharpener had backed up from him significantly. When the teacher had sent him outside with the water, he had gone but had slammed the door on the way out, harder than he intended, leaving a neat crack in the wall and a piece of the ceiling to fall and nail the professor in the head.

            He was certain that was going to get back to his parents, with a bill to accompany it.

            Not something he was looking forward to, even if money was no longer an object for them, with Mr. Satan paying them every so often, about twice a month. Gohan had been surprised that had started but he was fairly certain Videl had something to do with it. He had only caught the end of the conversation when he’d arrived to pick her up to go to school but it was something along the lines of:

            Either pay them for their aid or give them full credit.

            Her father’s pride was far too large for him to give up the fame so he opted for the payment. Whatever the reason, it relieved all their money troubles. Still, even with that, he knew his parents would not be happy to get a bill about repairing the school’s walls and door. Not even Dad would back him on that one, not after he told him how it happened. He was way too old to let his temper control his power like that. That hadn't happened in years.

            Gohan sighed deeply, laying with his back against the wall.

            What was wrong with him lately? He was snappy ,cranky, more so here than at home but even Goten had commented that he was getting mean. He didn’t mean to but he didn’t even understand why. Laying here, back against the wall, he thought over the past few months. If anything, he should have been happy! Dad was back and he was back to stay—

            Gohan turned his head suddenly; for all the good it did him.

            Oh, he didn’t blame Goten for wanting to be with his father. After all, it had been seven long years before he had even met him! Gohan couldn’t imagine not knowing his father, not having that great man to look up to. He rather appreciated not being the sole figure in Goten’s life anymore. It was exhausting being the man of the house when you were still growing up yourself.

            Then there was Trunks.

            He was over a lot lately, playing with Goten but more often, it became a threesome: his father, Goten and Trunks. Trunks wasn’t even Goku’s!

            Gohan shook his head; why should this bother him? He’d love it too—

            Perhaps therein laid the problem.

            He would come home from school and he’d study then run outside to train to find his father had already started it with Goten. Oh, he’d join in at least until Mother came out to yell at them to get a bath. Gohan used to love that time. So many times he thought he’d like to just relax outside in the tub with his father and Goten but usually about then Trunks would show up or emerge from his hiding place.

            Gohan would always go inside to bathe, leaving the group outside to laugh and play.

            Snorting, Gohan tossed the water buckets to the ground, coming to the conclusion that school was Hell. He was stuck here and when he went home there would be more schoolwork. Yet he knew more than most of his teachers. The things in his books were of little interest to him. He wanted to be a fighter for justice, similar to the Great Saiyaman though with his father back, he found he was donning his gi more than the costume lately.

            Goten had it easy. No school uniform, no long lengthy homework hours, not hounding studying. Just a few short hours at primary school then home again.

            No, Goten had gotten to play and explore.

            Gohan had been stuck in his room when he was Goten’s age and lately, that infuriated him. Damn it, it just wasn’t fair. Hell, ChiChi had trained Goten! Trained him! Taught him to fight! And what was he doing? Still doing those studies because Mother insisted it so. He wanted to please Mother, deeply, and his studying did that but if that was so vital then why did she not hound GOTEN so much on it? He had to sneak away to play, had to argue for hours about being able to train and Mother gave it to Goten so easily? What was so special about HIM?

            That aside, Daddy had been with Goten like he was his shadow lately. Sure, he knew that Daddy wanted to get a bond with him; that was understandable. Yes, he understood he was a teenager but damn it, that didn’t mean he didn’t want time with Father too! He’d waited seven years for it! KNOWING his father and WAITING, so PATIENTLY.

            The fact that seeing them like they were mirror images of one another was no help. Gohan gazed at his reflection in the water of one of the buckets. When Goten had been born, he’d cut his hair, hoping it would ease Mother’s pain, better one that resembled her dead husband than two he had reasoned. Lately, with Goku back, Gohan had started to grow it back out, going back to his old style. Still, he only resembled Goku…Goten was a Mini-Goku.

            Shaking his head, he yelled at himself mentally; that shouldn’t have mattered but why did that bother him so much?! Yet it did bother him and he didn’t know why and that was an irritation.

            “Gohan?”

            The teenager turned, seeing Videl emerge from the classroom.

            “Hey…”

            “What your problem today? You almost made Sharpener jump out of his skin.” She had been utterly stunned that the blond teen hadn't just passed out.

            “Good…” came the short answer.

            “See, you’re doing it again. You’re cranky.”

            Gohan rolled his eyes. “Thanks for pointing out the obvious.”

            Videl narrowed her eyes, walked over so she was right in his face. “So what’s the deal, huh?”

            “If I knew, I’d tell you.”

            Videl scowled. “You know Gohan, the teacher is going to get on your case even more-“

            “I know…but I can’t do this right now.”

            “Do what?”

            He turned, looked out the window. While Videl had not been doing ki training too long, she recognized the look on his face. “Gohan, what about your mother? You know what she’ll do if you just take off from school? You’ve got the perfect record right now, you know, aside from being known as someone that’s sickly.” She teased gently, making reference to the many “I don’t feel good”s he’d used to escape and play superhero. She, being daughter of Mr Satan, was excused.

            No change in his face so she shifted her attitude. “Gohan?”

            “I need to think some Videl and I can’t do it here.”

            “think, about what?” her tone wasn’t accusing, just, well, inquisitive. Gohan half turned, eyed her and did give her a brief smile.

            “If I knew, I’d tell you…” he remarked, turning back around, eyes fixed on the horizon. Videl’s warning about his mother rang true. He did have a fairly decent record at school, save his vanishings to go fight evil in the city. He had gotten sick at school once, really and truly sick, but he had opted to stick it out until the end of the day then just crashed when he got home. So, as it stood, he really did have a pretty good reputation to risk. Heck, even Dad wanted him to--

            Suddenly newly enraged, Gohan scowled and growled under his breath. Damn them both, his mother, his brother…hell, Dad too!

            They seemed to have made their little family again and it seemed he had been cast out of it. The more he thought about it, the more he felt out of place, felt cast out and angry. Not just at Goten or his father or his mother but at all three of them, plus himself. He felt that he was probably where the brunt of the blame fell for the change in the family atmosphere but that was not unusual. Gohan always found a way to lay blame on himself.

            Shaking his head, he opened his eyes again, feeling oddly confined and suffocated by the school walls.

            Gohan eyed the school room a moment, pondering his options. Videl was still standing there, eyeing him.

            “Your parents’ll worry, Gohan.” She warned him, with something that resembled a threatening tone in her voice, just her typical “you aren’t going to just ignore me” tone. Though, now that she had met both of his parents, she felt an odd connection to them as well and knowing from the experience with Buu how even Goku worried and cared, despite his outward nonchalant appearance at times, she wanted to spare them that worry. She had felt her heart tear open when she was told Gohan was dead.

            ChiChi had fainted.

            Goten had burst into tears, inconsolable for the most part, when he’d found out.

            Then there had been Goku. He had taken on a hard face in front of the others but when they had taken the break to carry ChiChi inside and wake up Trunks and Goten, Videl had seen it: the hidden tears at the bottom of Goku’s eyes and the broken look to his face. It was a look she couldn’t really describe; it had looked like someone had ripped apart his entire world.

            Gohan eyed her, “If they aren’t too busy with Goten to notice.” He replied and then was gone out of the window.

            Videl stared after him a moment then her eyes widened in realization. “You…” she shook her head and then smiled, hands on her hips. “Son Gohan, are you _ _jealous_ _?!” Then, seeing his form disappear into the distance and his ki drop down so she couldn’t feel it, she frowned and turned, heading back inside. “Excuse me Professor but—“

* * *

 

            Laughing, Goku swung Goten off his shoulders and dropped him to the ground. The smaller boy laughed. “Do it again, Daddy!”

            “Again?”

            “Yeah, do it again!”

            “You’re gonna get sick, Goten!”

            ‘Nu uh, I’m tough stuff, do it again!” the seven year old insisted, tugging on his father’s arms. Goku, caving, lifted Goten up onto his shoulders and swung around in a circle, keeping a firm grip on the smaller child. The boy squealed like a pig, calling ‘faster!’ to his father after a moment. Goku laughed, twirling again. Goten squealed and kicked his legs briefly. Goku reached out and tickled the boy’s feet. Goten yelped. “Cheater!”

            “Oh, well, you’re the one who—“

            The phone ringing broke into Goku’s train of thought. Goten still flung over his shoulder, he leaned up and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

            Goten looked over at his father, curious. Goku was silent a moment, listening.

            “What, when?”

            Goku knelt, setting Goten on the ground. Goten, puzzled, eyed his father. It wasn’t like Goku to stop in the middle of playing unless something was wrong. Goku sat down on the nearby chair, still listening. Goten, concerned, put a hand on Goku’s leg. The Saiyan put a large hand in his son’s hair, giving him a nod that said ‘wait a minute.’

            “Thanks…”

            His father lacked that usual zip and spunk. As he hung up, Goten asked “Daddy, what is it, what is it?”

            Goku stood up, eyeing his youngest, “Goten, your brother disappeared from school today.”

            Goten’s eyes widened. “Where did he go, Daddy?”

            Goku bit his lower lip, “They aren’t sure. He just disappeared.”

            “Big Brother doesn’t do that though.” Goten remarked, eyeing his father. “That isn’t how Big Brother acts.”

            That was precisely why it was worrying Goku so much. He knew Gohan wasn’t fond of school--well, at least the academic part--, mainly because he was bored and felt restricted and out of place but he was not the type to just up and leave. Lots of scenarios began to run through Goku’s mind, thoughts that no father should have to picture their son in. It didn’t help that he knew his son had achieved a mystical power up, thanks to Old Kai. All it did was fuel the worry, knowing that every time they got stronger, a new and stronger enemy always appeared.

            Goten, breaking into his father’s thoughts, declared “So, let’s go find Big Brother and ask what happened.”

            Such a simple statement but probably making more sense than anything Goku had been thinking. As he went for the door, the kitchen door opened and ChiChi walked out, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Who was on the phone, Goku?”

            Goku froze in the doorway, trying to think of a delicate way to tell her without her blowing up.

            Goten chirped “Big Brother isn’t at school and they dunno where he went!”

            Goku silently cursed the bluntness of children and praised it at the same time. At least now he didn’t have to say it.

            ChiChi’s face paled. “Where is he then?”

            Goku turned, meeting her face. ChiChi wrung the cloth in her hands, biting at the very top of it. “I dunno Chi.” He said honestly. “Goten and I are going to see if we can-“

            The phone rang again and ChiChi lunged for it like it would vanish by the second ring. Goku and Goten watched her, Goten more out of curiosity but Goku was thinking the same thing as Chichi: that on the other end of the phone would be their eldest, explaining his absence, accepting ChiChi’s ranting and panicked lecture but then assuring them of when he’d be home. Though, Goku had a strong urge to give Gohan an earful himself, though he rarely was the type.

            “Gohan, where the—oh, hi Videl.”

            ChiChi’s face fell considerably but she didn’t hang up. She listened, intently, her nails digging into the phone as she did so. Goten looked up at his father who gave him a shrug as an answer. ChiChi didn’t say anything for a long time but was nodding. Goten himself never understood why adults did that. The other person couldn’t see you nodding so why bother. Still, he wanted to know why Big Sister Videl would be calling now. Did she and Big Brother go somewhere?

            “…thank you Videl.”

            ChiChi hung up the phone and turned to Goku, “Videl just said he took off in the middle of class, out of the window.”

            Goku blinked, stunned. That wasn’t like Gohan. Surprisingly, ChiChi didn’t get angry and start accusing him of bad influences but instead said,

            “Goku, she said he was really cranky and out of sorts. Said he didn’t even tell her where he was going.”

            “Did she see where he went?” It was an odd seriousness that settled on Goku's face.

            ChiChi sighed, “She said she saw him vanish off toward the ocean…which doesn’t narrow it down much.”

            Goku agreed with that but turned to his youngest. “What do you say, Goten? Let’s go track down Big Brother!”

            “Is Big Brother in trouble?”

            _If he doesn’t have a good reason, I’m going to kill him_ were Goku’s thoughts but he replied with “Depends on why he left.”

            Goten nodded “Maybe he went to that island.”

            “What island, Goten?” ChiChi chimed in, kneeling to his level "Is it one that you two go to when you play?"

            “Nu uh" Goten corrected. "The one he showed me a while ago. He said that was where he learned to fight.”

            Goku nodded “Can you show me, Goten?”

            “Uh-huh!” the small boy declared and headed out the door, stopping out in the yard, gesturing after his father to follow.

            Goku turned to head out the door but then let out an oomph! when a sudden weight was slung up onto his back. It wasn’t heavy just unexpected; turning, he found his wife straddled on his back, piggyback style, her legs wrapped around his waist. “Don’t you think for one minute I’m just going to stay here!” Her sharp tone was full of maternal possessiveness and anxiety.

            Goku didn’t argue with her; he didn’t blame her for wanting to come and honestly it would have done little good to argue with her right now. He wanted to find Gohan and get to the bottom of this. Wasting time arguing with his wife wouldn’t help. He didn’t want her to lose it at his son but they would just have to take that as it came. Depending on if Gohan was hurt or something would really determine that…heck, he didn’t know what he would do when he found Gohan honestly, aside from hug him half to death.

            “Goten, show Daddy.”

* * *

 

            He hadn’t planned on staying out this long but he still didn’t feel like heading home.

            Gohan leaned back, taking refuge in one of the old caves he had taken as shelter so many years ago. He could still see the burnout marks where he had made fires. He made his way to the back of the cave and moved aside a stone. Reaching inside, pushing aside cobwebs, Gohan’s fingers met the hilt of an old blade. Pulling it out, the old metal made a scratching sound along the stone.

            Turning the blade in his hand, the old sword was now so light. But then, he surmised, anything would be light after that damned Z Sword! He gazed at his reflection in the blade and found himself cursing who he saw. He remembered, so long ago, even after long sparring matches with Piccolo, looking deep into that reflection and grinning at what he saw; someone who could handle himself, someone who had improved and grown stronger. Someone that could take problems he saw and instead of pondering over solutions, could go out and actually deliver solutions.

            Oh, he still loved figuring out problems and exploring. He loved learning, probably always would but not to the extent most people assumed. He was the school genius not by choice but merely by chance. His mother’s long years of hounding study hours on him had made their mark and it showed. While it certainly made his grades soar, it did little to help his socialization skills. He had a few friends but most of the people in his class would shun him, make fun of him or simply ignore him entirely. He had hoped to make friends when he went to school. The few he had made had indeed been grand but it was nothing compared to loyalty that Father's friends had for him, Videl being the exception of course.

            That aside, he had learned something else recently. While he didn’t have the strive to get stronger like his father did (or at least not for the same reasons), he did find he found great joy out of helping people. For his mother’s sake, he had attempted to find something in the scholarly field. He had considered being a scientist, a doctor, a researcher, but every time he even attempted what he knew what would be expected of such fields, he found himself mindlessly bored.

            Being the Great Saiyaman…now, that was something he adored though not to the extent he wanted.

            No, his greatest pleasure had come when he had taught Goten and Videl how to fly before the World Tournament. It had reawoken his buried interest in the sport, the interest he had tried to keep buried out of respect for his mother but he knew, deep down, that the interest had never waned, merely gone to sleep. Teaching Videl and Goten had made him think about ki in different ways, imagine ways that he could explore it, find new elements in, find new techniques and pass that onto other fighters.

            Gohan shook his head. He was sure that would go over just GREAT with his mother.

            Snorting, he recited it out loud, “Hey, guess what Mom, I’m going to be a scholar in martial arts! Mind if I open a dojo?”

            He shook his head, no, he didn’t even want to picture that reaction.

            But still…

            That furious white hot wave of anger erupted through his heart again.

            Yet, she had no problem teaching her brother how to fight, had no problem telling him to do his father proud by how he fought. She had no problem with Goten attending regular school, with regular and expected amounts of work. She never hounded that he could do more, that he had potential that she wouldn’t allow to be lost. Goten got to play, got to go visit Trunks, got to go hang out most any time he wanted. When had Mother called him a delinquent? Only once, no, less than that. She’d called him a monster once when he went Super Saiyan.

            Gohan…well, he’d lost count of how many times he’d been accused of becoming a delinquent when all he wanted was her praise of how strong he was becoming. Deep in his heart, he wanted her to tell him how much he was like his father. ChiChi had fallen in love with his father as he was, a fighter. ChiChi had been a fighter in her own right. Gohan wanted to be recognized for who he saw himself as: son of ChiChi, the Ox Princess and son of Goku. Yet, all everyone ever said to him were comments on his intelligence and all Mother ever did was praise that. Not once did he recall being told how much he was like his father, not from his mother.

            Goten got that every day, from the day he’d been born.

            Every day, everyone commented on how much he looked like him, how much he acted like him. Some people even called him a Mini Goku which irritated Gohan to no end though it was certainly the truth.

            Gohan paused, glancing at his reflection in the sword blade again. His hair had begun to grow out, slipping back to his pre-Cell Games style that most resembled his father. With a deep sigh, he realized that no matter what, he would never resemble his father the way Goten would. To him, that was the worst possible thing.

           _Stupid little thief…_

            Gohan stopped, stunned at himself. What was wrong with him? He loved his little brother, annoying as he could be at times, but he had just called him a thief!

            Why shouldn’t he though? He surprised himself again by asking. Didn’t he steal everything from him that used to be solely Gohan’s? His mother’s attention, once centered on Gohan, as annoying as it had been. Now, it seemed at least to the teen that when he was shipped off to school that Goten, prior to going to primary school, was the center of his mother’s world. She certainly commented on it enough.

            He remembered those early years. He had been excited to become a big brother, especially since it was such a big surprise to them. But for those first few months it had been all about Goten, Goten, Goten.

            In some ways, he supposed, it still was. After all, it was Goten and Trunks that Goku had decided to lay his trust in.

            Gohan’s eyes narrowed.

        _Dad…_

            What had happened?

            He used to be Goku’s world, his sole figure, the one person that Father would drop anything and everything to be with. Now, if he got time with Dad at all, it was always polluted by a small mirror image that seemed incapable of any wrong. When the fight against Buu had come up, while he was training to be powered up by the Old Kai, he had heard all his father’s comments on his little brother.

            All that damned praise to a brat that wound up nearly costing them everything with his cocky attitude.

            Gohan plugged his ears and shook his head, like doing so would fling all these unpleasant thoughts from his mind. He was horrific for even thinking them! Goten had never been in a battle before. None of that was his fault! Inexperience and arrogance were extremely caustic teachers as he knew all too well. He had never wanted his brother to go through that and he still didn't and yet those bothersome thoughts still popped in out of nowhere!

            Which was why he couldn’t go home yet, not while they still plagued his mind.

            He laid back, closed his eyes and hoped some sleep would chase them from his heart.

* * *

 

            ChiChi let out an exasperated sigh and even Goku looked slightly annoyed.

            “Sorry Daddy, I wanted to see what it was.”

            Turned out traveling over ocean and unexplored lands with a small seven year old half-Saiyan, especially one named Son Goten, was a very trying event.

            Every five minutes, the boy would dip down toward the water or the earth, pointing at this or that.

            “Goten!”

            Said child turned, eyeing his father, not used to hearing that kind of tone. His wide eyes bored into Goku’s and the Saiyan Father let out a deep sigh. He never was very good at staying angry at his children, even if he needed to. But in this event, he was worried about his eldest and his youngest was not being a lot of help.

            “We need to get to Gohan, Goten.” He reminded him for what felt like the thousandth time. “Once we know Big Brother’s okay, we’ll come and explore all you want to, alright?”

            “’Kay!” the boy shot up into the air again and Goku followed suit, ChiChi clinging to him tightly. Goku remarked to his wife as they flew, “Short attention span, hasn’t he?”

            She groaned but managed a small smile. “More like nonexistent.” But she smiled widely and embraced her husband tightly. “Just like Gohan that way, Mr Wanderer and he’s just like his Dad.”

            Goku laughed but followed Goten as they flew over oceans until they came upon a fairly large island. Not outrageously large but obviously not small. Goten pointed. “Big Brother said it was here.”

            Goku landed and ChiChi got off of his back as they looked around. ChiChi glanced around, seemingly horrified. Her four year old son had been dropped HERE all those years ago?

            Goten frowned, thinking out loud “Big Brother said there were lots of cool places here so I dunno where he is.”

            Goku sighed but closed his eyes, seeking out his son’s ki. He felt lots of small animals and various other things, maybe some scattered sentient creatures here and there but—

            “Wait!”

            ChiChi grasped her husband’s hand. “Did you find him?”

            Goku frowned, thinking then nodded as he opened his eyes. “But it’s small.”

            “Small? Then he’s hurt? Or sick or--!”

            “Or maybe he’s sleepin’” Goten cut in, holding his hands behind his head like his father and older brother did. Sleeping was sounding good to Goten right now. It had been a long day and the sun had long since gone to bed. He didn’t understand why his parents were so panicked. To him, it was far more probable that his brother had gone out to think and fallen asleep then something horrific had happened to him. But then, Goten assumed it was an adult thing that he was too young to understand.

            Goku blinked, suddenly feeling a fool because everything that had rushed through his mind. “or maybe he’s asleep.” He repeated, to reassure his wife.

            ChiChi eyed her husband. “So, can you find him?”

            He closed his eyes again, focusing. He nodded “He isn’t too far.”

            “Daddy…”

            Goku turned “Eh? What is it Goten?”

            “We shouldn’t wake him up if he’s sleepin’.” The child remarked. “Big Brother’ll get cranky.”

            ChiChi narrowed her eyes at her youngest for such an asinine thing…to come this far and just wait out here in the middle of nowhere yet she knew that was how Goten was. Stating what he thought and not seeing anything wrong with it. Goten was not the type to consider all angles. She let out a deep sigh but Goku laughed. “You can’t be tired on me, are you? Thought you were my endless bundle of energy!”

            “I’m not sleepy.”

            Goku picked Goten up, resting him on his shoulders. “Soon as we find your brother, we can go home and you can go to sleep.”

            Goten didn’t say anything else, except to reaffirm that he was NOT sleepy, and ChiChi trotted beside her husband as they made their way through trees, over small rivers and finally up towards a large cave. Goten jumped off the elder Saiyan’s shoulders and rushed inside, feeling his brother’s ki clearly. He darted into the darkness and ambushed that sitting figure,

            “WAKE UP BIG BROTHER! Mo-“

            A sharp POP and cries and shouts of “Big Brother, that hurt!” met Goku and ChiChi’s ears as they made their way up to the mouth of the cave. Goten clutched his head where his brother had given him a fairly harsh blow but it was little more than an annoyance to someone of Saiyan blood. Sitting not more than three feet from their youngest was Gohan, still in his school uniform, eyes dark and frustrated and definitely not in the best of spirits.

            “Son Gohan!” ChiChi ran forward and hugged her son tightly before pulling away and saying “What were you thinking? Do you have any idea how worried your father and I have been about you?” She was ranting, but had tears in her eyes. “We thought you were dead or hurt or—“ She trailed off, just collapsing into tears, burying her face into her son’s chest and squeezing him tightly with her nails digging into his shoulders.

            Her son gazed at her with a surprised look, then looked up and met his father’s eyes.

            Goku had an odd look. He looked happy, sad and also angry. It was a scary look, far more than his mother’s ranting was. Her ranting he was used to. Goku’s face looking like that was something new entirely and he hated it. Honestly, he hadn’t thought through very well on his parents’ reaction; he had assumed that they would have been too busy with Goten and would have just accepted that he would come home when he came home. Goku’s hurt look, as well as that uneasy anger look in his eyes, was unnerving him. Still, he met both their eyes and asked,

            “You noticed?”

            ChiChi gaped. “Did we no—Son Gohan, what a question!”

            He pulled from her grasp, “Pretty reasonable question to me.” He told her simply. He wasn’t trying to be angry nor to be disrespectful but it was hard. His anger was still pretty fresh and he was struggling to keep it in check. He had never been really good about that, not when he got really fired up which was how he felt right now. Damn it, this was why he had stayed away from home for now! He was still too angry! Why wouldn’t they just let him alone before he did anything stupid?

            “Son Gohan, we were worried sick! You vanished from school and don’t even call?”

            Gohan didn’t reply to her. He really didn’t have a good answer for her but everything she said was pissing him off. And because that was making him mad, he was getting mad at himself. He shouldn’t have been getting angry. She had a right to worry. He’d been stupid not to let them know he was clearing his head. Still…at the same time, that anger grew again.

            What right did she have to lecture him on how worried they had been when they hadn’t given him any reason to suspect he’d be missed? Caught up in his anger, an alien anger that honestly he hated and wanted gone, he snapped,

            “Just shut up Mom!”

            ChiChi fell silent and backed up a little. She was stunned, and honestly didn’t know how to respond, at least at present moment. She never pictured Gohan saying such a thing to her. He had done so once, before he left for Namek. She had been stunned dumb then too. So, her face was an almost perfect mirror image of what it had been then.

            Goku spoke up then “Gohan!”

            That got Gohan’s attention, mainly because his father was not the type to speak like that. Gohan remembered only three instances where he’d heard that tone as a child: once on Namek after he had refused to leave even when his father asked him to, when he had tried to go after Piccolo during Cell’s attacks against his father’s orders and had been slammed onto his back and…and…when Goku had screamed at him to kill Cell. Gohan, however, caught up in his anger, only heard his father’s tone as attacking him. He heard the tone as dismissing of his feelings, as siding against him…as it seemed lately everyone did. He flashed his eyes a green, briefly though he was surprised; he had thought his ability to go Super Saiyan had been dismissed with his Mystic power up. Apparently, it was not so. It was a different feeling than Mystic. Perhaps it was just a different type of power. Gohan didn’t completely understand his powers but that was nothing new. In any event, his voice came out like a snake’s.

            “You shut up too!” he snapped back, meeting his father’s eyes. “Don’t be standing there playing all innocent!”

            Goku narrowed his eyes, more than a little irritated at his son’s lack of respect. There weren’t many things Goku was strict on but he had learned from his grandfather to be respectful of people, though he hadn’t always remembered it, and his sons being disrespectful to him was something he didn’t tolerate and both of them knew it. “Son Gohan, back down.”

            Gohan normally would have done so but with the start of this, his anger was flowing out and now it was erupting out of his mouth. “Why? Why the hell should I? Tell me, when did you actually notice I was missing? Before or after Goten started to whine for a playmate? When you needed a free babysitter for him? Huh?”

            Goten stared at his brother, hurt by the comments. “B-Big Brother?” He took a tentative step forward.

            “Shut up Goten! You get enough limelight as it is. How about letting me have some say for once?” Gohan's eyes were flashing again, without his desire.

            “Bi..big Brother, I don’t understand—“ Huge crocodile tears were starting to fill the younger Son's eyes.

            “What part of Shut Up is so hard to understand, eh?” Gohan was starting to feel out of control, again, like he really didn't know what he was going to do.  It was a frightening thought but despite how he clawed out against it, it was like he was drowning in emotion and couldn't get a grip on anything.

            “Son Gohan!” that came from both his parents at once.

            Gohan met their eyes, his still burning in anger. “What?”

            “Watch your tone—“ ChiChi began in her sharp tone but her eldest was not done.

            “Why should I?” Gohan snapped. “It’s always Goten, Goten, Goten—I have a right to speak, don’t I?” he snorted. “Or did Goten steal that too?”

            “Gohan, we-“

            Goten interrupted his mother this time. “Big Brother, I didn’t steal nothing—“ The child's voice quivered.

            “More like what DIDN’T you steal!” Gohan snapped again though Goten’s face cut into his heart. He was starting to regret what he was saying but now, he had become something of an emotional snowball. Now that all those concealed feelings, hurt and anger were being unleashed, he couldn’t just stop. He didn’t think he could stop until it got all out. He was drowning in it and much as he wanted to stop, he couldn't. He felt lost and surrounded and crushed all at once.

            To Goku, especially, whom he felt had betrayed him to his soul, “And you…tell me _ ** _Father_** _ when did you find the time to break your playdate with Goten to even bother to come after me?”

            “Gohan, I-“

            “I’m surprised you noticed at all!” Gohan interrupted. “After all, you have Goten don’t you?” he was on a tirade now, “That’s all it EVER is: Goten, Goten, Goten, Goten!”

            Goku cut his son off with a slap to the face, amid Goten's yelp of shock and ChiChi's wide eyed gasp. Gohan stumbled back, more shocked than hurt. It stung a little but not much. Still, it was enough to break him out of his fit. He stared at his father, then his mother and then his brother. His heart sank. ChiChi looked like she was going to cry and scream all at once, hurt and bewildered. He had never seen her look so lost. As for his little brother…

            Gohan’s heart broke. What had he said? What had he done? Oh, what had he DONE?!

            All those things he said came rushing back to him, at a speed that left him dizzy. Goten shrank back from him, burying his face into ChiChi’s leg. “I’m not a thief! What did I steal? I didn’t mean to…” The child trailed off into a flurry of tears. Gohan's heart broke with each sob but he didn't dare try to reach out to him.

            Then, there was Goku, his father…the man he looked up to so much.

            Goku had never looked at his son with such disappointment. Anger Gohan could handle but not that disappointed, hurt and saddened look in his eyes. Gohan hated that look and he hated it when he snapped like he had. True, he was angry but his intention had never been to hurt anyone, least of all his father. He had gone off to get rid of this anger! Instead, it just billowed and grew and now he didn't even know all the emotions had running through his heart!

            Anger that had subsided for the moment but was still buried deep in his heart. but now it was trading blows with shame, frustration, confusion, sadness, loneliness...

            He looked over his family’s faces a moment before he felt weak in his knees. He licked his lower lip, trying to bring back some moisture that had fled from his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that…well, not like that anyway. He wanted to get this out…no, no he didn’t! He was a selfish idiot for even thinking it. Would have been better if he’d just kept his damn mouth shut…

            Dropping to his knees and bowing his head to the ground, tears in his own eyes, Gohan swallowed hard and his usual tone returned. To his mind, he suddenly processed everything he’d just said, again, and he hated himself for it, no matter how truthful they felt to him nor how long those thoughts had boiled in his soul, saying, softly, “Sorry, sorry, Father, Mother…Goten, you too…I’m sorry.” He broke into a half cry though he bit down the tears, "I'm SO sorry..."

            Footsteps then, heavy. Gohan didn’t take his nose off the ground, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. He wouldn’t cry, he couldn’t. What right did he have to cry? After what he’s said…especially to Goten. Goten looked up to him so. They had such a tight bond. Had he just ripped that bond to pieces? He could still hear Goten’s sniffles. He was the older brother, he was supposed to have command over his emotions. He was supposed to know how to express them without hurting him, he was supposed to...

            “I’m sorry too, son.” Goku knelt to his son, sitting on his knees and stroking his son’s black locks from his face. Gohan hadn’t budged from the submissive bow. “Sorry I had to do that but you were talkin’ crazy.”

            “Not really so crazy Dad…” he said softly, not lifting his nose from the ground. Goku cocked his head, worried and stroked his son’s cheek a little.

            ChiChi broke in, “Gohan…” her voice was not that ranting angry tone but that motherly, worried tone. “What are you saying…everything you just said, do you—“

            He didn’t answer her, just sat there, head down to the ground, breathing hard.

            Goku paused a moment then wrapped his son in a tight hug, drawing him into his chest. Gohan blinked but closed his eyes, relishing it. Goku was quiet a minute but then said, “I think we all need to talk.”

            ChiChi for one was stunned. That was a rather mature and rational answer, not at all like Goku usually was. Still, he never failed to surprise her and well, his paternal instincts were usually on point; she for one was in agreement with him. It wasn’t like her son to take off like he had and the way he had screamed at Goten wasn’t like him either. She didn’t like the idea of all these hurtful feelings concealed in her son’s heart. If he wanted to let them out, like he was trying to do, then he needed to.“But not here.” She amended. “We’ll all catch our deaths out here. Somewhere warm.”

            Goten trotted over and eyed his father, “Daddy, we should talk in your special room.”

            “My special room?”

            Gohan smirked, despite himself. “He means your meditation room, Dad. Where you do all the stretches and stuff.”

            Goku didn’t really think of it as “his” room because his children used it to warm up and ChiChi was known to go in there to get a breather but to his children, especially Gohan, it was a safe room. He was never punished in there and he felt secure there. After Goku had died during the Cell Games he would go in there and just bury his face into the pillows.

            Truth be told, that did sound like a good place to be right now. Maybe he could focus better and try and figure out why this stupid anger kept coming back. He hated his anger. It was his tool but at times like this, it felt like an enemy, twisting him in ways that was not his nature. One would have thought that he would have banished it after Cell but it was as much a part of him as anything as tangible as his hair was. He couldn’t just force it away.

            Goku nodded and held his hand out to Goten as ChiChi grasped his other arm, which was still wrapped around Gohan. Focusing on the familiar ki that were always around his house, Goku put two fingers to his forehead then the group of four vanished and reappeared on their front lawn. ChiChi and Goten headed in ahead of the other two and Goku gently pulled his eldest to his feet.

            “I…I didn’t want you to worry Dad.” That much was true. Gohan had never intended for his family to worry. He had gone to clear his head and because he thought, truly, that his presence would not be missed.

            Goku responded. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

            “I…I dunno what I’m feeling anymore Dad.” He replied honestly, rubbing his hair back. “I just don’t.” He felt oddly scared, like his emotions were wrong and that he would ridiculed for them. Goku had never been one to forget him before but Gohan felt so…well, out of place in his own home lately. He was sure it was his fault but at the same time, he blamed his brother. The fact he blamed Goten made him feel awful but the more he focused on it, to try and divert that thought, it seemed that events just seemed to support that allegation and yet didn't support it. It was all very overwhelming, a literal ocean of emotion.  “I didn’t mean to explode like that” he finally said, changing the subject. That seemed the best thing to do. He couldn’t take back what he said but he could own up to it. “…if you wanna ground me…”

            Goku eyed his child, smiled at him warmly, none of that previous anger. “Your temper has never been a good liar, son and neither have you. My Gohan doesn’t just blow up for no reason.” Gohan’s heart soared again…MY Gohan he’d called him. Was he truly still viewed so brightly in his father’s eyes. So often lately he doubted it. Gohan felt worse because of it, that he had screamed so much at him. But he took a step then another and followed his father indoors. He found his mother just coming out of Goten’s room. She had put him to bed apparently, which Gohan was glad of. He didn’t know if they wanted to include him in their conversation and truth be told, it was better if he wasn’t. Gohan might say something that would hurt him and he didn’t want to do that. He had already hurt him enough. He could still hear the boy’s sniffles, though they had become less.

            No time to focus on that; his parents were gesturing him to come.

            So, the three: Goku, ChiChi and Gohan took their seats within the small Japanese style room and waited.

            Gohan was silent a long time. “Well…where do you want me to start?”

            “We just want to make you feel better, Gohan.” ChiChi assured him. “If it makes you take off like that, then you need to tell us! We’re your parents, sweetie.” She said gently. ‘Start where it feels most important to.” She eyed him, gently, saying, “You scared us half to death and that isn’t like you. Neither is that ranting maniac in the cave.” She sat back again. “So why don’t you come out with it so your father and I can fix it?”

            Gohan blushed, head still down. How could he word this? He wanted answers and the fact that his parents were willing to listen but still…he didn’t want to hear the answers. He was sure of what they’d say, despite how they would try to sugarcoat it. That much he was certain of. Still, just the same, he needed to hear it. Maybe then, he could accept it and move on—

            “Why is Goten your favorite?” he blurted out suddenly and without much planning on his part.

            Two strangled coughs met his ears and he looked up.

            His parents both looked like they were going to either choke, pass out or both.

            “Wh-what?” Goku stammered as ChiChi gagged and stared at him.

            “Wh-why is Goten your favorite?” Gohan repeated again, a little louder.

            “Our favorite?” ChiChi managed to find her breath. “Son Gohan, there are no favorites in this house!”

            “Sure seems like it.” He said softly. He was being ridiculous, he told himself. This was ridiculous. These emotions made no sense and he knew they made no sense.

            But they were still there and they were still eating at him. They had been doing so for a while and continuing to ignore them was obviously not working. What else was there left to try? He wanted these feelings gone. He wanted to feel normal again! "Why is he..." he repeated again.

            “Why we-“

            Goku cut ChiChi off. “Why do you ask that, Gohan?”

            ChiChi wanted to slap him for acting like it was nothing but she also saw his point. She wanted to hear why her son thought it. It was just more of her nature to snap. The fact that she had been ready to go nuts like Gohan had earlier was enough for her to force herself to calm down and hear his side.

            “Because he is.”

            ChiChi responded. “No, he isn’t but tell me what makes you think he is?”

            He met ChiChi’s eyes. “You.”

            ChiChi blinked. “Me?”

            He turned to Goku, “And you.”

            Goku stared at his son but the boy went on:

            “Mom, how often does Goten get to run out and play?”

            “He’s a little boy, he needs to get that energy—“

            “And how often did _I_ get that?” he asked her, feeling angry again. “How many times did I ask you to get to go to a party or go explore nadh ave you say no?” he spat at her. “It was either ‘with those bad influences, no way mister.’ Or ‘You’ve been goofing off too much. You need to study.’” Here, he leapt up, angry suddenly. She acted like she had no clue but she _had_ to have some clue. She had to! “Study, study, study! What am I, Mom? A machine?! Someone you preprogram to do what you want?”

            “Gohan, I-“

            “No, you listen to me for once!” Gohan snapped at her then promptly slunk back, covering his mouth.

            ChiChi looked like she wanted to blow up. Her face went red, her fists clenched but instead, she hissed, through gritted teeth, “So, talk.”

            “Goten gets to do all this stuff you never let me do: he gets to play, he gets to make friends, he gets to go outside instead of stuck in a little boring room all day staring at numbers for hours! I understand you wanted to give me an advantage Mom but you half killed me with it!” he met her eyes, looking remarkably hurt, like he was ready to cry. “you trained him, Mom.”

            Goku blinked, “Eh?” he eyed his wife. “you trained Goten?”

            “Only the basics.” She admitted.

            “yeah, the basics.” Gohan cut in. “basics you never let me near! You know I would have loved to learn your style Mom, just like I loved learning Dad’s and Piccolo’s. I had to fight you, all the time, to even get to train for a battle, let alone spar for the fun of it. And..and…you just GAVE it to him…for nothing.”            

            ChiChi couldn’t say anything, not even if she wanted to.

            She never really could say much when one of her children started to cry and that was what Gohan was doing, though he didn’t seem to notice it.

            “You know how many times I wanted that? How much I _still_ wanted that?” he asked her, tears staining his face. “You knew I loved it. You knew it! And you gave it to Goten, not me. You didn’t even tell me! Just expected me to stay your perfect little scholar.”

            Gohan’s eyes welled up, again, and he had to struggle not to let them slip down his cheeks.

            ChiChi stared a moment then took a breath. “Gohan…it wasn’t like that.”

            “Then..what was it?” He sobbed. "Help me understand Mom!"

            “I…” she sighed, “I…was trying to keep you both safe.”

            “Safe? And how was THAT keeping me safe?”

            ChiChi sighed, looked at her eldest. “I never wanted you involved in any of this!” she spat. “I didn’t want you seein’ any of the blood, violence..none of that! It was fine until Pic—“

            “No, Mom, it wasn’t.” he eyed her. “Did you pay attention to me when I was little? It was already calling to me.”

            “It was—“

            “Dad,” he said, turning to Goku. “Didn’t you notice it?”

            Goku winced, seeing ChiChi eyeing him. Still, he couldn’t lie anymore than his son could. “Looking back, I did.”

            “Goku—“

            “Mom.” Gohan interrupted. “I understand you didn’t want me to get hurt or anything but…well, Mom, I’m never going to be the scholar son you want.”

            “G-Gohan—“

            “Because I’m not human.” He responded. “I know you were trying to do the best you could but I’m not all human, just like I’m not all Saiyan. I never will be and nothing you do is going to change that.” He met her eyes. “Goten…you gave him what I always wanted…what I still want. It’s like…you accept him more than me.”

            “Gohan…”

            “Well—“ He shrugged "Why the change then if that's not the truth? If it isn't that you accept him more than me, then why the change?"

            “I...did change some after Goku died.” She met her husband with loving eyes and took her eldest’s hands. “When you were born, you have to remember something, Gohan. I didn’t know Goku was Saiyan. By the time Goten came along, you had taught us both so much. I understood that Goten needed that outlet.” She sighed "I wish I had a better explanation, sweetheart, but Goten was our second child and you learn so much with your first. I was still learning, your father was still learning. Then...after Goku...died...I guess, my priorities finally got straightened out."

            “So why didn’t you give me that option?” He inquired to her. "If your priorities got 'straightened out' then why did I have to stay your educational machine? Why couldn't I finally do some of that training I always had to beg for?"

            “Did you ever ask me?” She said softly "After the Cell Games, did you ever ask me?"

            Gohan blinked, taken aback slightly. All the same, he met her eyes simply, “Didn’t dare try.”

            ChiChi drew back some and Gohan took a deep breath,

            “Every other time I had, you would hound on me for loving it so much. Like wanting to be like Dad was a horrible thing. I got used to that response. I didn’t _want_ to ask. Why do you think I brought up the reward money when I asked if I could enter the tournament? Thought that was the only thing that would make you say yes.” He lowered his eyes. “Didn’t want to disappoint you.”

            ChiChi bit her lip. Had she truly done such a thing to her son? She had never meant to. She had hoped to keep him safe, to keep him from falling into the same path she and Goku had. That had been her intention. Not only to keep him safe but to instill a sense of learning and knowledge in him that both she and her husband had been denied. It was the same reason she sent Goten to school. Same reason she sent Gohan to high school. Not just the book smarts but to learn to socialize, to fit in.

            She tried, desperately, to explain this to her tear stained son. Goku had gotten up and walked over, taking Gohan into his arms, drying his son’s tears with his finger but gently encouraging him to go on. Gohan was trying to dry his tears but he really couldn’t fandom why it was worth the trouble. He did force his ears to listen to his mother’s words though. A conversation was a two way street. He’d said his piece…only fair he listen to hers.

            “Gohan, I only pushed the studying for your sake.”

            “My sake?”

            ChiChi nodded. “I wanted you to have chances that your father and I didn’t have. I wanted you to be able to achieve things that we never could. You have so much potential. I only want to see you make use of it and not waste it!”

            “Wh..what if I wanted to be like you and Dad?”

            ChiChi blinked. “You _want_ to aspire to be a country bumpkin?”

            “Well…I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.” His palms went sweaty and hot. He couldn’t believe he was telling her this. How could he be even considering it? She would blow up, he was certain! Still, like before, he found he couldn’t stop.

            “Thinking? On what?”

            “On my future.”

            ChiChi’s eyes lit up.

            “I…I want to do both.”

            “Both?”

            “Scholar and Fighter…in one.” There, he'd said it. "I'm Saiyan and Earthling and I need to feed both those sides. I need to do both."

            At this, ChiChi cocked her head. “Both? And how do you intend to do that?”

            “Well…I taught Goten and Videl how to fly…” He said softly.

            “And..?” she pressed.

            “I…I…I thought about making my own dojo.”

            ChiChi stared at him and Goku squeezed him tightly. “I…I want to teach people Mom. That’s one thing you did build in me.” At this. He saw her absolutely beam and he felt glad for it. It was the truth as well. He had learned to love learning, found something fascinating in everything he was presented. More than the subjects themselves, it was the fact that he was building his horizons, learning. He loved exploration, traveling for the exact same reason. But there was something else that made his heart soar even more. “I love learning but…well, after teaching Goten and Videl…I found I love teaching more. But, I don’t think I could get into teaching something like science or anything like that. I’m half human Mom but I’m also half Saiyan. Your side of me wants to teach. And Dad’s side of me loves the martial arts. I want to show people what Dad, Piccolo and everyone have taught me. I…I want to teach this world to defend itself.” He went on, "I...there's so many things we still don't know about ki, about how the body and ki interact. I've seen amazing things done with it and I know that I could find more amazing things and I could teach more amazing things. I know I could give this world a fighting chance so that its survival isn't all balanced on the shoulders of a few people."

            Now, normally, anything like this would have sent ChiChi into a rage but how could she argue with that kind of logic?

            Being a teacher, even if it was a martial arts’ teacher, was still admirable. The owner of a dojo was not a horrible thing; she knew quite a few whom were respected and paid well for their services, not like that Master Roshi. Still, even he was worthy of some honor, given that he had helped to make her husband who he was, in one way or another. Plus, the times when Goku had caught that horrible heart virus, the man had opened his home without a second thought. There was deep heart in the man, even if it was coated pretty heavily with his perverted viewpoints.

            And this world was certainly in need of learning to protect itself.

            “And honestly, Mom…”

            “Yes?” she asked softly, keeping her voice level.

            “I want to teach the world about the legacy of this family…not just us, but Piccolo, Yamcha, Tien…they’ve all taught me something. I want to pass that on. I’ve passed Dad’s teachings onto Goten and Videl. You passed your own onto Goten and that is one reason he’s so strong.” Gohan meant every word of that. Each fighting style you learned gave you an advantage. Goten, because he learned from Mom, had an angle he never had.

            ChiChi blinked and her son met her eyes brightly. “I want to have that Mom. I want to show the world the strength of Son Goku…but also the strength that is his wife’s, Son ChiChi!” He eyed her, coyly. “But I kinda needa be taught it first before I can teach it to anyone else. Please, M-Mama?” he asked again, shifting to the old term he had used so many years ago. How old had he been when he last used that? Five? Maybe six?

            Well, damn it. Even if she HAD still been willing to fight him on it, how could she after that kind of speech? Her son had a way with words and he had his father’s charm and it was charming her right out of her rage.

            “Gohan…”

            “Yes, Mom?” he asked softly, still unsure of what her reaction would be.

            “If…it means that much to you…”

            Gohan stared at her, as did Goku.

            “I…I can’t say I’m entirely happy.” She admitted. “I’d much rather have you be safe, in a laboratory, or a classroom or…” she shook her head and smiled through some tears. “But…well, you take after your father, just like Goten does. And that girl of yours is certainly a spitfire.” At this, her son’s cheeks burned red and she allowed a small maternal chuckle. “If…it will help you to succeed…and be happy…” she smiled again. “You certainly are your father’s son.”

            “My mother’s son too Mom.”

            “I…suppose you are.” She chuckled. “To stand up to me like that, to state your mind like that,” she narrowed her eyes, playfully. “But that means I want you to be better than me or your father, hear me? You have to have somethin’ worth demanding to make any money with it!” Gohan laughed, rubbed the back of his head but inside, his heart felt like a thousand pounds had been lifted off of it.

            So…that was how it was. Mother hadn’t been favoring Goten, least not by the sound of it. It all made sense to him, now that he processed what the woman had said. She had changed when his father had died. He had noted that. While she had asked him to keep studying, she had lost that horrific ranting on the subject. She had come to terms that it was not the most important thing. Maybe that was why she took what he had said far easier than he expected.

            As for ChiChi…well, she had never felt so much pain in her heart as she felt at the moment.

            She had lived her entire life to keep her eldest and her youngest away from the violence that had plagued her life and her husband’s. She supposed she had not always been that way, she reasoned, eyeing Gohan’s wide and happy eyes. Once, she had been like Goku, and like Gohan. Anxious to throw herself into a battle, hooked on the adrenaline rush. As a child, danger had sent her running, in terror but her temper and fiery attitude had also made her fight back. Post meeting Goku, she had pushed her father to train her, to teach her to be a warrior so that she could stand by his side.

            Frowning, she narrowed her eyes, rubbing her wrists. How often had she done that?

            She supposed that after Gohan was born, she had dedicated herself to keeping him safe. When Goku had died and Gohan had vanished that first year…

            Well, she didn’t want to ever feel that kind of pain again.

            Still, now that she had learned so much about Saiyans and seeing Goten as well as Gohan…she supposed there were some things she just couldn’t change. Sometimes it was easy to pretend that they were just human, especially when they were sleeping or sitting like Gohan was now, curled up in his father’s arms. At the same time, she wouldn’t wish them to be anything but who they were and that was Half-Saiyan.

            And that meant the desire of battle.

            Well, leave it to her Gohan to figure out a way to make money from him and please her as well!

            She eyed her son and asked, “Feel better now?”

            He paused, slightly. He considered his emotions. They still rumbled but now it was less hurricane and more like spring shower. “Mostly…”

            “Mostly?” Alarm trickled into her voice.

            Gohan bit his lip, “N-never mind.” He had conquered the main issue, no point in...

            “No! No, never mind.” ChiChi said firmly. “You tell us what’s wrong. We came in here to settle some problems and we’re going to settle them!”

            Well, no use arguing with that tone. ChiChi, she was yelling at herself even before her son opened his mouth to continue. Goku held the boy tightly, encouraging him silently and she went over everything she had just had opened up to her. It was like dropping a bombshell.

            Watching her son and her husband, sitting there, exchanging hugs, words and conversations that she couldn’t quite follow, she bowed her head. Had she truly fallen so out of touch with her son? So out of touch that he was afraid to come to her? Afraid to talk to her? He spoke so easily with his father. That entire conversation had been like he was standing on nails and pushing each word through his lips like she had pushed in labor! Like he was afraid of each word he said.

            He’d said earlier he hadn’t wanted to disappoint her. Is that what he felt all the time? That he was a disappointment to her? That he had to be “just so” to please her? The thought that anything she had said put such thoughts in his mind made her feel ill. He was her son, her first born, her baby. She may not like all the paths he chose, one reason she tried to slip in her input but he was always her son!

            Shaking her head, she sighed out loud, mainly directed at herself though she had meant well. Her good intentions did nothing to ease her mind. As well intentioned as she might have been, her son was terrified to talk to her, scared he might disappoint her or ignite her anger. She admitted she had a temper; Gohan had inherited it. She never dreamed that she had caused such thoughts in her child’s mind however. Suddenly, she found herself looking at Gohan’s face, remembering all those times he had winced and drawn back from her when she had been trying to get through to him how dangerous what he was doing was. Trying to get through to him that she didn’t want to lose him again!

            He had always taken her shouts, never said anything just smiled and nodded at her. Then turned and clutched at his father.

           She had once---well, no, she had never really had that kind of a bond, not with Gohan. From the day he was born, he had been attached to his father’s hip. She had hoped to open his eyes to other things, things she had once desired. She had thought that perhaps that way, she could have a bond with him…

            She shook her head. Well, Gohan loved her, she had no doubt about that and she certainly held no animosity toward him because of what he had said. It had hurt her heart, like a knife. Who wanted to hear that everything, well, at least most of what they had done, to help someone had instead inspired fear, and fed into a psyche of self doubt. She damned herself that moment. Both damned herself and praised Goku. He had kept her in balance a great many times, especially right before the Cell Games. Truth be told, she had been pondering a lot of things since Goku returned and not just because her heart had been ready to burst with joy.

            Buu.

            This battle…so different than the others. Usually, it was fairly easy to watch from the sidelines, and then yell and worry and pamper when the tired and rugged warriors returned. She had been drawn into this battle, in a way she had never felt before. Her eldest…he’d died. Or so they thought. Her youngest driven into battle with a determination that ChiChi couldn’t have stopped had she tried.

            She didn’t remember being killed. It had been a flash of light then she had been somewhere else entirely but it had opened her eyes. One reason that she wanted their family to be together so much lately. She had lost everything, everyone. She had charged out to meet Buu with nary a thought for herself, and now, reflecting on that, she realized that it must be what Gohan and Goku did every time they rushed into battle. It was crazy, it was insane, it wasn’t rational.

            But she supposed…for love….it was permissible.

            Slightly comforted by that fact, she lifted her head, meeting her son’s eyes as he prepared to go on. He didn’t seem to want to.

            “C’mon, little man…”

            Gohan whirled at his father, “What did you call me?”

            “Little man…don’t you remember? That’s your nickname.”

            “You mean it _was_.”

            “Was? Still is. Gohan, what is it? It used to make you beam to hear that,” Goku looked hurt. “You don’t like it anymore?”

            Gohan looked hurt himself, a look ChiChi had seen before a few times, when he felt betrayed. “I love it but it isn’t mine anymore.”

            “Sure it-“

            “Then why the hell do you call Goten that?!”

            Goku blinked, jerking back slightly. Gohan met his eyes, panting. He hadn’t meant to shout, not like that but it had just happened. His father didn’t scold him for it but regarded his son with deep eyes, not angry, nor disappointed. Rather, slightly confused then they shifted, filled to brim with guilt and a bit of shock.

            “You mean the other day when we-“

            “yes, the other day. You call it my nickname then you go and give it to my brother.” He blinked, “just like everything else.”

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa…” Goku tilted his son’s head up and ChiChi moved to sit by his side. “What do you mean?”

            “Well…” Gohan rubbed at his eyes, sickened that he had started to cry. “Goten got Mom’s favor and her blessing to train…I never got that. I understand why but it doesn’t change facts.” He said, hoping to push aside his mother’s heartbroken face. “Goten got a best friend, something I never got. The only friend I had as a kid were either adults that just saw me as a nephew and a dragon that Mom was petrified of.” He lowered his eyes. “And even Icarus had to move on…had to mate and reproduce. Goten’s never been without Trunks…had him since the day he was born.” He sighed deeply. “And…”

            “And what little Gohan?” ChiChi asked, gently. Gohan smiled, despite himself. It had been a long while since she’d used the “chan” suffix. For  the longest time, it had been “kun” with him. Gohan shook his head,

            “I’m sorry…I’m being selfish. I know times change and things change and nothing stays the same…it shouldn’t even bother me. I’m glad Goten has all that stuff…”

            “I’m glad.” Goku remarked. “But I want you to talk to me. Just because it’s good that he has all those things doesn’t mean you don’t have a right to be upset you didn’t.” Goku eyed his son with deep eyes. “And you know I would have changed everything if I could have don’t you?”

            Gohan could hardly believe otherwise, especially with what his mother had said about her realizations. She’d been trying to make him successful and keep him safe, he knew that much. Just like she was trying to do with Goten, now that she understood better.  Gohan shook his head. Why was that bugging him so much…

            “it’s just a name…”

            Goku tilted his son’s chin up so he was looking him right in the eyes. “No, you’re right.”

            Gohan blinked, surprised, “Huh?”

            “It _is_ your name. I should never have given it to Goten. Goten needs his own nickname. Not yours.”    

            Well, Gohan must have looked like a fish out of water. Goku laughed and ruffled his eldest’s hair. Gohan closed his eyes, savoring it. It had been so long…seven long years. He had missed his father, so much. ChiChi had as well but she had thrown herself into taking care of Goten and him. Gohan had taken it upon himself to be a role model to Goten and every time he saw Goten…he remembered. The Cell Games. His own failure. Those seven long years had been torture. He had wanted to train more than ever but he had forbidden himself for both his mother’s sake and his own. He saw himself as a murderer, even all these years later. He doubted he’d ever forgive himself for it.

            Then there were the petty reasons. Every time anyone saw Goten they commented on how much he took after his father. It seemed ot give his mother a deep sense of satisfaction. It had broken Gohan’s heart simply because he had fought his entire life, in his mind, to be recognized as worthy on carrying on his father’s legacy. He never wanted anything else but to be recognized as the child of Son Goku. When he began to improve his martial arts, he grew in self pride every step of the way. He knew people saw him as the child of Son Goku, as the son who took after the father and that made his heart swell.

            Then Goten was born.

            Oh he loved his brother, make no mistake. But Goten from the day he was born was commented as the child of Goku, as Goku’s last gift to his family. Goten looked like him, acted like him. People called him Goku’s shadow, his carbon copy almost. That was something Gohan would have given anything to achieve, to be viewed as so much like his father but he knew no matter what he did, he would never be as much like his father as Goten was. It was eerie how much they were alike and it was something he desired so badly.

            He supposed though that he didn’t deserve it.

            “Goten…and you Dad…”

            “What about Goten?”

            Gohan went silent again. “I’m glad you too are bonding like you are…”

            Goku cocked his head at his son. “But what?”

            “Well, it’s…” He rubbed his neck, “I want some of that too.”

            Goku blinked and Gohan continued, “I know I’m older and I know I have other friends and things now but…well, you’re back in my life Dad but sometimes I don’t feel like I’m in yours.”

            If Goku had ever wanted to kick himself, it was at that moment. He had taken time to be with Goten and Trunks, especially since he’d never gotten the chance to bond with them before. He had not meant to forsake his first born and he honestly hadn’t thought he had been. Kinda a stupid thought now that he looked back on it. He hadn’t meant to push his eldest away, in fact, much like ChiChi, he hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it. Goku, pondering this, looked up at his son’s broken hearted face and did the only thing that came to his mind.

            ‘Son, I’m sorry.”

            Well, for anyone else, for any other family, that would not have been even cvlose to enough. For the Son Family however, Gohan felt his heart lightened and he smiled. Two little words…that was always all it took for him to forgive anyone. He was like his father in that respect. ChiChi catching onto this trend and slapping her forehead for forgetting it herself, put her hands on her son’s.

            “I’m sorry as well, Gohan.” She saif gently.

            Both his parents eyed Gohan a moment and Goku finally said. “There’s something else too though, isn’t there son?”

            “Well, first off, don’t get mad at me…I love my brother, I really truly do Dad.” Gohan knew that there was nothing to be done about this; it was simply the way it was. However, if he could express it, get it off his chest...

            “But?”

            “Well, it’s just that he…well,…-“

            “-Cause I look like Daddy?”

            Gohan whirled around as the door was pushed inward a bit and Goten stuck in his head. “Goten, what are you doing here?”

            “Well, I heard you talking and your ki got all sad and upset.” He defended.

            Gohan sighed; leave it to Goten to notice something like that.

            “Goten, c’mere little buddy.” Goku called to his youngest who ran in and jumped up into Goku’s lap. Goku opened his arm and pulled Gohan over, settling him on his other leg. ChiChi despite herself, smiled. Her husband was one of the few men on the planet who could hold both of his children: a seven year old and a seventeen year old on his lap and not be fazed. She walked over and planted herself on Goku’ left.

            Goten met his brother’s eyes. “I’m sorry I look like Daddy.”

            Gohan bit his lip. It wasn’t that important, he had to learn to overcome it and— "That's a gift, Goten," he started.

            “Gohan…” Dad that time. “Does that bother you?”

            “N-no.”

            “Liar.”

            Gohan bit his lip.

            “Why does that bother you?” ChiChi intervened, not angry though she did sound a little annoyed. “I think it’s a great thing!” She stroked Goten's hair "And I know you said so too, several times Gohan." She paused, calmed her voice "So...help US understand."

            “Because that used to be my thing…” he whispered underneath his breath. “It used to be my place to follow in Dad’s footsteps…” he smiled, despite himself. “Goten’s better for it though. Does better than me…”

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Goku interrupted. “None of that! I’m proud of both of you.” At ‘both of you’ he gave both his sons a tight squeeze on the shoulders. “I think you both do just fine.”

            “Goten hasn’t failed you, not like I have.”

            “Gohan!” Goku turned his son’s head so it met his eyes. “Where is all this coming from?”

            “I failed you before and I know it. Goten hasn’t..I doubt he will. I failed against the Saiyans when they invaded, I failed against Garlic Junior; if Piccolo and Krillin hadn’t  been there I wouldn’t have beaten him, I failed against…Cell.” His voice drooped there.

            Head down, he damned his tears. He wouldn’t cry, he couldn’t. “I failed to beat him and you died. I cost Mom a husband and Goten a father.” He looked up at his father finally, tears threatening to trail down his cheeks. “I failed you again, I didn’t beat Buu. I let Trunks, Goten and Piccolo get absorbed. I didn’t make sure of Elder Kai’s gift. I didn’t do anything but give Buu a boost when I got absorbed.” He met his brother’s eyes. “Goten does you more honor than I do.”

            Goku shook his son roughly, not to be cruel but to get his attention. “Now, you listen to me, young man.”

            Gohan met his father’s face and Goku reached out and wiped the tears off the boy’s face, resting his palm against the boy’s trembling cheek. “I am never going to be disappointed in you.” He said this firmly and with dedication. “You’re my son. No matter what happens, I’ll always be proud of you.” He paused. “As for Cell…” he turned serious here. “I never blamed you and I never will so you need to stop blaming yourself.”

            “How can I?” he asked. “If I had done what you told me then you would have come home with me. You would have been here when Goten was born. I denied you those first seven years with him!”

            Goten cocked his head, a little baffled. “But he’s here now.” He said, pointing out the obvious. “It woulda been weird if he had been here when I was a baby.”

            Gohan stared at his little brother who said,

            “Well, then maybe you and I woulda fought and stuff like Trunks says siblings do. We don’t do that and I like it that way.”

            ChiChi stroked first Gohan’s hair then Goten’s out of their eyes. “Your father dying was horrible Gohan but it did give us a gift.”

            Gohan met her eyes, unbelieving, “Like what?”

            “You and Goten…your bond to one another.”

            Gohan met his younger brother’s eyes a moment and Goten grinned that Son grin, the same grin he had inherited.

            ChiChi went on, “The way you two interact; I’ve never seen anything like it Gohan and it’s a priceless thing.”

            Goku grinned, “And I like my boys just how they are. If I’d been around, things mighta gone different and I sure miss that I wasn't here but I wouldn’t wanna change my boys for the world…EITHER of them.” He squeezed the two close again. “I don’t want you two to be just like me. That’s borin!” he laughed. “I want Goten to grow up and be Goten and Gohan to grow up and be Gohan.” He drew both boys into his chest and rested his head on their foreheads. Goten laughed; not Goku’s laugh but his own. Gohan, finally, relented and laughed a little himself. So similar to Goku’s laugh but still his own.

            It was odd. At least to anyone else it would have been odd. All these past pains, however skewered by his view, suddenly cast aside and forgotten because of two apologies and a warm family cuddle? Perhaps they were a bit odd, Gohan admitted ot himself. But then, that was what made his family so unique. They understood one another.

            His mother…she was a strong woman. Strong and fierce and Gohan didn’t doubt there was much she would teach him. He may have been doing martial arts his entire life but he knew by her nature that there would be a great many tricks she would teach him. More than that though, was knowing that they had finally come to a consensus. She loved him, always had and always would. She didn’t reject his life’s calling and she was willing to let him be who he was. Brave woman she was! But then, that Mother’s nature. She saw a challenge, met it and went with it. Even if that challenge meant realizing she had to learn to keep up with a Saiyan husband and two half Saiyans boys. Gohan wouldn’t have wanted to grow up without her influence.

            Goten…naïve and more than a little annoying at times but probably the best friend he could ever ask for. Always there and never faltering in his faith towards his brother. Even with how he had spoken to him earlier that day, he forgave him simply and without question. Always questioning and learning but also teaching him at the same time. It was through Goten that Gohan learned truly how valuable his family was. He had never been in the position to teach protect another. He had always been the youngest, always needed to be protected. When Goten, and through Goten Trunks, had come along, Gohan had found his soul’s place of meaning: protector, teacher and ever the learner. After all, a good warrior never stopped learning. Goten was just as much Gohan’s teacher as he was his pupil. And his friend. That, he decided, was the most important thing. Growing up with only a fainbt handful of friends made him appreciate any friends he had ten-fold. Goten was more than a friend. He was his brother and to Gohan that meant a friend for life, truly a rare treasure to be selfishly guarded.

            Goku…Daddy. Gohan made that decision right there that to the hell with the “dad” and “father.” They didn’t suit his father. Daddy did. Always had he supposed. At one point, he might have cringed at what others would think of a teenager referring to their father with such an infantile term but coming right down to it, that wasn’t important. More than anything else in his life, his father’s love and respect was something he had so much strived for but had never needed to. Goku loved him unconditionally and he knew nothing would ever change that. Changes in life made that hard to remember sometimes but as he buried his face into his father’s neck, he found himself slipping into a same peace that he’d had in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber so many years ago. Their strong bond…it was like no time at all had passed. He wrapped his arms around that man, the man whom was his ever present rock and closed his eyes.

            “Now, why don’t we all get some rest?” ChiChi cut in. She smiled at Goku, “I think we’re long overdue for a family outing and tomorrow sounds just fine to me.”

            Goku smiled. He closed his eyes a moment, faintly, testing his son’s ki. Gohan’s no longer held any pain, nor any confusion. Satisfied, he gave ChiChi a firm nod but instead of standing, he shifted, sliding down to the floor and lying down on one of the tatami mats. ChiChi blinked at this a moment then catching her husband’s look, a look that spoke with little words, she nodded and retrieved some blankets from the living room.

            Goku shifted his sons slightly, Goten clinging to his left shoulder, curled up half on and half off of his torso and Gohan, clinging to his neck and curled up so tight onto his side that they almost seemed to blend together, and laid his head down. ChiChi crept over and laid down by his side, wrapping one arm over and around Goten to clutch at her eldest’s arm. Using her other arm, she pulled the heavy blanket up and over their family bundle, she gave her husband a peck on the cheek.

            Goku grinned at her and returned it before giving one to each of his boys. Picking up a small book, he threw it at the wall, knocking the light off and closing his eyes. It felt so odd still, being back alive and occasionally, he would compare this to training in the Other World. There were great fighters there but nothing that compared to his Gohan and his Goten. And certainly no woman with the spunk of his ChiChi! One arm on each of his children and with his wife’s breathing warming his cheek, he looked out the window, skyward and half-waved.

            “Thanks Old Kai.”

 

 


	9. Forever Is A Long Time

_**TIME FRAME: RIGHT AFTER GOKU AWAKENS FROM THE HEART VIRUS; GOHAN IS 10 YEARS OLD** _

 

            Seeing Krillin hug at his father, crying, was enough to make Gohan want to cry himself. His father was standing there yet it seemed surreal. The last time Gohan had seen him, the man had been dead asleep, still as ice. He had collapsed on a battlefield. He had clutched at his heart. He had breathed deeply, in agonizing pain but refusing to let it show through his face. That was just how Daddy was, not wanting others to worry about him.

            Gohan had never seen his father fall before.

            Gohan had never seen his father ill like that.

            Gohan had never been so scared in his entire life, all ten years of it! Daddy was invincible, everyone knew that, especially Gohan. Daddy was a Super Saiyan, Daddy was a World Tournament Champion, Daddy was…well, Daddy was Daddy! Far as Gohan was concerned, his father might as well have been a God. He couldn’t be fallen by a stupid illness. He'd never been sick a day in his life! Nothing could cripple him! Absolutely nothing! Not even a heart virus…

            Yet he had fallen. Not in a small way either. If Vegeta, of all people, hadn’t shown up when he did, Daddy would have…the Androids would have…

            And Gohan could have done nothing. All his training for the past three years and he was helpless. He had been helpless. He could have done nothing.

            Yamcha had taken his father back home. Gohan had wanted to come. He had originally planned on taking his father himself and he’d been completely prepared to take his father’s full weight onto his back. Yamcha had insisted he was more useful on the battlefield and Gohan had reluctantly trusted his father’s fate to the older man. Gohan supposed he really didn’t have much say in the matter honestly. He wasn’t exactly in charge or a leader firing off orders. Still, Yamcha seemed to have given Gohan some say and had assured the boy that he would get his father home safely.

            Then, there was his own ordeal in getting home. One disadvantage of being able to fly was that when you around people who couldn’t, you tended to be drafted into the role of air taxi. He really didn’t mind taking Bulma and her son home; he didn’t blame her for wanting to get Trunks out of the way but then Bulma had agreed to come with him to his own home, which had suited him fine. After all, that’s where Daddy was.

            Then, when he had just been able to see the small house over the next horizon, she’d asked him to take a detour all the way to West City. He could almost see Daddy and yet she asked him to turn around because her son needed something. Now, he’d had every intention of pressing on anyway but then Yajirobe had sided with her, probably because he wanted food. Well, Gohan was a fair boy. He’d been raised that way. Trunks had started to cry then. He really couldn’t argue when he was outvoted like that and he’d reluctantly gone and turned around.

            By the time he managed to get home, they were moving Daddy into the ship. He’d only been sitting by his side a few minutes when Mother had dumped out his study books though how she expected him to concentrate he still didn’t know. He had wanted to just crawl up beside his father and cling to him but he knew they had a deeper threat to worry about and that alone was stopping him. Now, with his father standing in front of him, alive and well, that same threat was keeping him anchored.

            Well, maybe that wasn’t ALL that was stopping him.

            Pride.

            He may well have been a little boy but he was also half Saiyan and that pride was starting to rear its ugly head. He didn’t want to be seen by the others as a weakling. He wanted to impress them, to show them how far he’d come from that frightened baby that had failed them against Nappa. He wanted to show them all how strong he was. He wanted to show them that he was not going to fail them again. He wanted to show them that he could stand next to them as an equal.

            Which was why he was standing here and waiting for his father to come to him.

            It was so hard though! He already felt like it was harder than ever to swallow.

            He was just staring at the man, not trusting himself to do anything else. It was hard but he was managing so far. He stood there, just staring like he was lost in some sort of dream. Daddy was alive.

            That became an odd kind of chant he repeated to himself.

            Daddy is alive.

            Daddy is alive.

            Daddy is alive…

            Daddy looked at him, those eyes full of so much light. Gohan bit his lower lip as the elder man walked over and looked him over. What would Daddy say? Would he be happy to see him? Say he was doing a good job? That he’d hung in there? That he looked strong…that—

            “Hey, why the long face kiddo?”

            What long face? He couldn’t have looked as overwhelmed as he felt could he? He had been doing the best he could not to look that way. If he squeezed his fists any tighter than he was certain his knuckles would pop. If he blinked even once, he was sure the floodgates would open. If he moved even an inch, he was certain he would be leaping at his father's arms. He was supposed to be a strong fighter! He hadn’t spent three years training with Daddy and Piccolo to crack like an overcooked egg…

            “There…”

            Goku’s strong fingers slipped through the boy’s black hair to rest on his scalp and Goku started to slowly move them back and forth, a slight massage on his head. Why? Why did Daddy have to do that? He knew what that did to him. Goku moved his hand back and forth, sending the boy’s wild hair up in several different directions. The strength of his father could be felt in even that simple gesture, that every day display of affection that was special to them.

            Gohan closed his eyes, letting the feeling rush over him.

            Daddy was alive.

            Daddy was ruffling his hair.

            Daddy had caught and beaten the heart virus which meant it would never be a threat to him again. His body had immunity to it now.

            Gohan opened his eyes and now, looking up, meeting eyes with those deep black ones, he laughed, widely. Trunks’ future wouldn’t repeat itself here! Daddy had survived. Daddy was alive! He was alive! He was alive! Daddy was alive!

            “I missed you Daddy!”

            Understatement of the year.

            He had felt so confident with Goku near and he knew everything would be alright. Daddy just had that effect on people, himself included. He knew that with Daddy by his side, he would know what to do and when to do it. He knew he could be strong enough and brave enough because Daddy was there to back him up. Daddy wouldn’t let anything bad happen.

            Then Daddy had been gone and he had felt, well, scared.

            No, not scared petrified.

            Oh, Mr Piccolo was one thing. A strong fighter and a great friend to the young boy. However, as is the case when you ask any child, it just did not compare to one’s parent. Parents, even to a Z warrior like Gohan, were still the invincible and faultless gods that they have been for ages past. This was Gohan’s first glimpse into the fact that his father was not invincible. Even when Goku had died when he was four, there had been no doubt in his mind he would find his way back. Now, whether that was out of his faith or because he had been too young to truly understand what “death” was he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that when Goku had fallen ill, he’d felt sick to his stomach from fear. Illness was something not even the Namekian dragonballs could alter. There would be no restart button for death by illness.

            If Daddy were to die, he would stay dead.

            He would have been gone…forever.

            Forever…forever.

            Gohan’s previous studies, for some odd reason, began to flash through his mind as his father turned to talk with the others.

            Forever..

            An adverb or a noun, everlasting time, without end, eternally.

            Eternal…

            Adverb. Permanent and unending.

            Eternally without Daddy.

            Permanently without Daddy

            An unending pain of not having Daddy…

            Gohan, like the overcooked egg, cracked.

            “DADDY!”

            Voice shattering like glass, he ran forward, plowing past Krillin and making Tien step to the side. Goku turned from his conversation and Gohan leapt up, arms wide open and flew through the air, charging his ki to propel him forward. All that mattered right now was being in that man's arms again.

            Goku laughed and his strong arms enveloped his son as he crashed into his torso, sending them both onto the floor of the plane. Piccolo scoffed but said nothing and Tien and Krillin hid a small grin. Yamcha turned from the pilot seat faintly, regarding the scene with humor and Trunks..the older one anyway, stood there, always smiling like he was hiding a secret no one else could know.

            “DADDY! You’re alive!”

            Goku smiled and stroked the boy’s long black hair. “Yep, sure am.”

            “You’re not dead.”

            “Nope. Not today.” Goku smiled at his child but Gohan shook his head.

            “Not today, not ever. Not ever, ever again! Don’t ever go away again Daddy!” The boy's eyes welled up and his voice caught.

            “Gohan, hey, it’s okay.” Goku stroked the side of his son's face but the boy shook his head again, violently.

            “No.” he pouted, curling his tiny hands into fists on Goku’s gi top. “No, it’s not okay! Daddy, you were sick. You almost—“ he couldn’t say it. “You almost went away forever! Forever’s a long time Daddy! You almost went away F-O-R-E-V-E-R!” Caving, he dug his face at deep into his father's torso as he could, savoring the familiar smell.

            Goku tightened his grip on his son.

            Krillin blinked and scratched his head, trying to figure out how Gohan had turned a three syllable word into seven.

            Gohan cried.

            No, he wailed.

            He sobbed.

            “DADDY!”

            An odd sight this was. Not that Gohan was crying, after all, he was only a ten year old child and one that had lived through more than most men would in their whole lives but that wasn't the shock. It was how Goku reacted to it. All his old friends had grown up knowing Goku as a carefree child who took things as they came but had never been very…well, let’s just say that the fact he was a father was a massive blow to their sense of reality.

            So, when Goku sat up, they were unsure what to expect but it wasn’t what they got.

            Wrapping his arms tight about the boy, one arm under the boy’s neck and one supporting his bottom, Goku sat there, rocking the child back and forth, holding him firmly to his chest, just saying, constantly,

            “Daddy’s alright. Daddy’s alive. It’s okay, little man.”

            Gohan didn’t reply, just kept up his crying but his screaming had stopped. As Goku held the child, gradually, the sobs quieted and turned into soft whimpers. Goku stopped moving and gently pulled his son into a sitting position. “Now, c’mon, c’mon. no more tears, okay. It’s alright. Everything is okay.” Goku pulled his gi top away from his body a minute and held it to his son’s nose. “Blow.”

            Gohan consented, though he thought himself way too old for such a thing, wiping his nose and his face on his father’s shirt. Piccolo made a disgusted look and it looked like the others wanted to as well. Goku ignored their looks and then pulled Gohan into his arms again, letting the boy wrap his arms around his neck. Goku stood back up and Gohan’s legs immediately went about his waist. He shifted one arm to support the boy and then turned to the others, one hand still in his son’s hair.

            They immediately turned away, as if there was something more important. They knew better than to say anything. After all, who could blame Gohan?

            Goku turned his head down and met his son’s drying eyes. “Better?”

            With a slight sniffle, the boy nodded. “Don’t put me down yet, Daddy.”

            Piccolo eyed them, “We don’t have all day to continue this bonding fest. Cell is still out there—“

            “And he’ll be out there in five minutes too, Piccolo.” Goku interrupted him and with a darkness to his tone the others rarely heard. “Gohan’s fine.”

            Gohan eyed his father, “And Daddy’s fine, right?”

            “No more pain, Gohan.”

            “No more fever?” He prodded.

            “Nope.” A wide smile.

            “And your appetite?” Gohan whimpered.

            “I’m starving.” Goku said with a laugh.

            Gohan finally broke out in a grin, wiping his eyes. “You _are_ okay, then Daddy.”

            “Yep…are you?” The man nuzzled his son's face with his own, brushing noses with him.

            Gohan buried his face into his father’s chest, savoring it a little bit before making himself climb down. “I am now.”


	10. Tough Little Boys

_**TIME LINE: A FEW WEEKS AFTER THE DEFEAT OF MAJIN BUU; GOHAN IS 17, GOTEN IS 7.** _

           “Goten!”

            Said small seven year old blinked and stretched, sitting up. It was a rarity for Gohan to wake him up. Usually it was the other way around. Normally, Goten took pride in pouncing on his brother’s chest like a wild cat. It was just how he was and it had become a game of sorts between the two brothers. Goten found it was getting harder and harder to do. Gohan would hold him off with a hand, roll over at the last second or hide under the bed and trick him onto jumping onto pillows.

            But not today. Goten hated to admit it but he felt well, horrible. It had started yesterday but he hadn’t wanted to tell Mom or Daddy. Mom had gone off with Bulma for some kind of weird shopping trip. Something about celebration for having everyone back and peace at last. Goten had a feeling Mother would bring back clothes because she had done a whole bunch of measuring on him, Gohan and Daddy yesterday before she left. She and Bulma had said something about doing some kind of tours in some cities before they came back, because now Mom had a lot of money. After Buu, Big Sister Videl said somethin’ about Royalty or something to her Papa, talking about all their battles, including the battle with Cell and this one with Buu. So now, every time Mr. Satan got a check for doing something related to his fame with Cell or Buu, then Mom and Daddy and Gohan got a check too. Daddy said Goten got one too and when he was old enough, he could choose what to do with it. Goten didn’t understand it but Gohan had said that it was “fair.”

            And he believed Gohan.

            So, the Son matriarch took full advantage of it and said she and Bulma were due for a “Girls’ Weekend.” Whatever that meant. He thought all weekends were the same but what it meant to him was that he had more time to just play with his brother. Mom had been a little nervous about leaving them because she knew Daddy would go on a sparring spree (and potentially taking them with him!) or leaving him with Gohan for most of the day. Goten and Gohan had both assured her that they’d be fine, in Goten’s words “We’re tough boys, Mom! We can handle being home alone for a little bit!”

            As for Daddy, he got a chance to spar with Vegeta this weekend, finally. Apparently, the Saiyan Prince was not going to relent until he got his re-match. Goten didn’t know why Vegeta bothered. His Daddy would always be able to beat him. Maybe it was some kind of adult game though. He much preferred hide and seek. Or exploring. Mount Paouz was so gigantic that he could spend a whole year seeking it out and find something new every single day. Gohan always found something new to show him!

           He could see how sparring could be lots of fun too though, especially with Big Brother! Now that Gohan had gotten back into the martial arts, he was a ton of fun to spar with. Before when they'd be training for the tournament, that had been fun but it was nothing compared to how they fought now. The other day, they'd totally lost track of where they were and wound up in the sky, way up high. Goten only noticed because the birds were suddenly gone.

            The best part about Daddy and Vegeta doing their own fighting tournament (well, match but he knew it would turn into multiple matches---kinda like how he and Trunks always wound up playing lotsa games) was that he and Gohan were all alone, since last night! Gohan got to be in charge and last night was really fun, at least it seemed to have been. He woulda enjoyed it more if he didn’t itch so much. Gohan told him maybe he needed to take baths more. Yuck! Unless it was a bath outside or playing in the water, baths were boring.

            But he had tried to enjoy it but it was hard. He had a belly ache now and his head hurt but he thought that was because of dinner last night. Having Big Brother in charge was lots of fun, especially because with NO Mother AND No Daddy to tell them ‘eat more, you needa grow,’ or ‘get something healthy in you for heaven’s sake!’ then dinner last night was a kid’s dream! Big Brother let him eat Animitsu, with ice cream on it even, for dinner! He ate six whole servings of it. Even Daddy woulda said three was enough because it was purely a treat, but Big Brother didn’t stop there. He got to eat mochi with bean paste in the middle which was something that Mom usually only did on special occasions. Then, he got out some Mochi ice cream. Goten smiled, in the mere memory; last night had basically been mochi, mochi, mochi! He probably ate more last night than Mom and Daddy would let him eat in three months!

            After that, Gohan let Goten help him make Okonomiyaki and they coated that in so many sugary and fatty foods that even the two half Saiyans had trouble eating it. There were even leftovers and that never happened! Goten had to struggle to down what he could, but he did so because he knew the chances of it ever happening again, at least for a long time, were very rare. But it had been harder than it should have been. He should have been able to down that thing without a problem and he and Gohan should have been doing janken to decide who got the last piece. Instead, both boys had ended up wrapping up about a third of it "We'll save it for Dad" Gohan had said and Goten had surprised himself by falling asleep not long after. Before his bedtime even!

            Now, come morning, he was still tired.

* * *

         Gohan groaned, not just at himself but Goten. Truth be told, they didn’t really have to get up yet. They didn’t have much to do except clean the house before Daddy got home. Mom would be gone until later in the evening but Daddy would be back by the afternoon, he’d said. Of course, knowing Daddy, that really meant by about suppertime. Gohan hoped that Daddy would bring them home something so that he wouldn’t have to cook. He had had fun, as much as could be expected last night, but he’d really been doing it for Goten. He knew his little brother would love having the sweets and he knew that it was almost an unspoken rule that if both parents were away that some household rules must be put on hold. For Gohan, that meant stuffing his brother with food and staying up until they fell asleep watching TV. Though, Goten had still passed out fairly early, especially since they had no parents telling them to go to bed. And yes, neither of them had had a bath the night before.

        The teen admitted that perhaps they had overdone it on the sweets. He hadn’t been one hundred percent the day before and the sweets had probably not helped because now it felt like he had a pool of lava sitting in his gut. It was hard to walk standing upright and he would gladly had laid in bed all day but he knew all too well that if he laid back down and slept some more that the dishes they had simply thrown in the sink would just become harder to clean. The way he saw it, the sooner they got that accomplished, the better.

         So he bit down the urge to sleep and blamed his headache and dizziness on way too much sugar and his own stupidity before he jostled his little brother’s shoulder.

        “Goten!” He called in a firm but gentle prompt.

        “Go ‘way!” The child tossed his arm off and buried his head under his pillow.

        "Get up, Goten.” Gohan pressed, not really feeling in the mood to deal with his pesky brother’s protests. “We have to clean up the kitchen at least.”

        “Why can’t Daddy do it?” The child groaned "He's the 'dult."

        “Because we made it.” Gohan reasoned through clenched teeth.

        “We make it ‘very night and Mother hasta clean it.” Goten argued.

         Gohan didn’t mention that the roots to that probably laid with him; in the days before the Cell Games he broke more glasses and dishes than he could count and he didn’t doubt Mother did not wish a repeat of that, especially now that there was himself as well as Goten who had a tendency to be a bit clumsy at times. Two Half Saiyans with the strength of Super Saiyans just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen, even if it meant that Mom got an unfair amount of work.

         “You really wanna hear Mom yellin’ about us taking care of the house first thing? They probably won’t let us stay home like this again if we leave the house a big ol’ mess.” Gohan finally settled on as a defense. "I don't want 'em to think I'm irres'onsible."

         Goten was tempted to lay still a little longer just to hear Big Brother talk. Big Brother was careful with his language and stuff around Mother and his classmates because he knew that’s what was proper and it was how he'd been raised. But when it was just them, and sometimes him and Daddy, Big Brother would definitely reveal he was the son of two mountain hicks. He would let that accent that he kept so carefully hidden come out full force. Goten loved to hear it, but he also heard what his brother was saying.

         “…Kay.” He finally relented and kicked off his sheets, sitting up slowly, his body protesting every single move he made. No fair, they'd only sparred some yesterday and he'd done the warm up and cool down exercises. Wasn't that supposed to make sure you didn't hurt? No fair! He was also resisting the urge to scratch at his arms and back. He didn’t wanna take a bath yet and Big Brother was probably going to make him, more so if he started to itch like that. “I’m up, Big Brother.” He declared, as if he deserved an award for that accomplishment. "Happy?"

          Gohan just stared at him. “Big Brother, what is it?” Goten blinked, feeling a wee bit of anxiety tickle his chest.

          Gohan blinked, delayed a moment more and then pulled Goten up, lifting the boy’s arms, looking them over. He didn’t find many but it was just enough…a red dot here, another there. He lifted the younger boy’s night shirt and found more, patches of them. Red spots. Gohan was no doctor but he certainly knew the symptoms. His little brother’s skin felt a little warm too and now that he focused, his ki felt drained. Gohan was also very familiar with this illness; he caught it himself when he was about eight and it had been pure hell.

          “Lay back down, Goten. I’ll get the dishes.” He finally said with a deep sigh.

          “But you just sai-“ The younger boy began.

          “I know what I said!” Gohan snapped, rubbing his temples. Goten was _NOT_ helping the dizziness, stomachache or the headache and Gohan wanted nothing else but to lay back down and bury himself under the covers forever. But that wasn’t the option. He was the elder brother. It was his job to handle this when his parents weren’t around. Unfortunately, if his little brother was sick, he couldn't exactly take a sick day himself.

          “You’re cranky, Gohan.” Goten snapped at him but he did what his brother asked and pulled the covers back over his head. Cranky or not, he was not about to turn down the offer to go back to sleep. Gohan walked off, disappearing into the kitchen. Drenching one of their dish towels into cold water, he went back to his sibling and folded it across his forehead. Goten yelped in surprise when Gohan pulled the sheets down and laid it on his face but he admitted it sure felt good.

          “Big Brother-“ He began to ask but his brother answered first.

          “You’ve got chicken pox, Goten.” He declared simply.

          “I got poxed by a chicken? I didn’t even go near a chicken…” Goten frowned “And what’s it mean to get ‘poxed’ anyway?”

          Gohan had to laugh, slightly, at that. He regretted it instantly and winced; that had NOT helped his headache.“I didn’t name the illness, okay?”

          “So, am I gonna die?” Eyes huge, lip quivering, Goten inquired "Was it a demon chicken?"

          “No.” Under his breath, Gohan added, “You might wish it at times though.” He offered as large a smile as he could manage "But it'll pass." He didn't feel like adding that it seemed when Half Saiyans got sick, they got really sick. No reason to let his sibling worry and fret. It certainly explained why he was struggling so much with whatever he had. Downside to being Half-Saiyan. You didn't get sick often but when you did, you really got sick. Nature had lousy timing.

          “Oh-“ Goten trailed off and collapsed into the pillow willingly when his brother gave a gentle push.

          “Just stay there and I’ll get the dishes and something for the spots.” He offered a smile of reassurance.

          “You gonna erase them or something, Big Brother?” Goten inquired. His brother was certainly smart enough to have something to do that.

          “No but I bet they itch.” He eyed his brother, then on second thought added, “It’ll kinda erase them because it’ll take out the itch.”

          “YES!” Goten grinned; then he wouldn’t get a bath! It was the stupid spots’ fault. The boy started to rack his nails down them at a high speed, now that there was no fear of the dreaded soap and water.

          “Goten, no!”

          At his brother’s fierce call, Goten froze.

          Gohan groaned, again. He was NOT feeling up to this, “Don’t scratch them, you’ll make them itch worse.”

          “Nu uh." Goten protested with a head shake, "They itch at one billion trillion right now!”

          Gohan didn’t bother to tell his brother that that wasn’t an accurate number, mainly because he still remembered how much his had itched. He was sure he’d driven both his parents batty. As much as he hated to admit it, he really wished his father would come home about now then HE could deal with this and Gohan could go back to bed, selfish as that sounded. His brother didn't feel good but neither did he. Woulda been best if they could both just pass out and sleep.

          But, not an option.

          Leaving his brother with a firm warning of a slow and painful death if he started scratching, Gohan went to dig through their herbal cabinets, looking for that mix that they put on pretty much everything that itched. He had to push through several jars before he found what he was looking for. Opening the lid, he groaned deep in his throat. The dark yellow mixture had turned a dark green, meaning it had gone bad and was no longer useful.

         Swell.

        Gohan didn’t say much when he went back to his brother, just picked him up, moved him into the living room and plopped him in front of the TV. Television was not something either he or Goten usually got to watch in excess (not that they generally felt like it) so when Gohan gave Goten the remote and told him to find some cartoons, it seemed to shut him up for the moment. Gohan was glad because he really didn’t want to deal with Goten’s a million and one questions right now. All he told him was he was going to go get his medicine to make him feel better. Truth be told, he probably should have put Goten in the bath with some kind of herb but he did not feel up to the fight that would ensure.

        So, he headed out to the bamboo fields then into the surrounding forests, seeking out that plant his father had shown him a long time ago. The sun normally would have felt good but today, Gohan damned it. It made his head throb. He had woken up with a headache that he thought couldn’t possibly get any worse. But now, with the sun and starting to dig in the ground, it was making it worse. He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this work but he had to for his little brother. His parents hadn’t let him suffer when he’d caught the chicken pox and he wasn’t going to let his brother.

        It took some doing to dig up enough roots. They were quite the stubborn roots and he had to be careful to get the entire root so he was digging into the earth with his fingers. He couldn’t remember how much it took to make a whole jar but he knew it was at least three. It took some trying to find enough because they weren’t completely in bloom yet. Luckily, with the backdrop of the mountains, they had a wide range of plants and Gohan had listened well when his father had shown him when he was younger. After his training with Piccolo, during the three years training for the Androids, Goku had taken it upon himself to give him some formal knowledge on the herbs and plants and it had served him well.

        It only took about an hour but when Gohan stood up, he stumbled. Subconsciously, he called up his ki to keep from falling. The world around him suddenly seemed to swirl and twist. He reached out, bracing himself against the nearest tree before sliding to the ground and slumping against the wet grass. Early morning dew was still present. He closed his eyes, blocking out the world a moment. Take refuge in the darkness that surrounded his eyesight, he coached his swirling mind. He didn’t want to ever open his eyes again. The grass was soft; he could just lie down right there…

        No, he had to take care of Goten. Burden of being the eldest…but more than that. He...his brother didn't deserve to suffer. He could rest later. Get his brother taken care of first. Goten first!

        He opened his eyes and winced at the intense flood of pain in his temples but pushed himself upward, balanced himself then headed homeward.

        Goten was sitting on the couch, having found a channel he liked. Looking up, he blinked, “Big Brother, you okay?”

        “I’m fine…” He wheezed.

        “You look horrible.” Goten remarked bluntly.

        “Gee, thanks. You’re really one to talk…” Gohan began but opted not to continue. No point.

        “Are you—“ Goten tried again, sitting up but Gohan shook his head and Goten flopped back down.

        “Don’t worry about me.” Gohan softened his tone, a bit touched by his sibling’s concern. Even sick, he couldn't turn down that face and it served as a well needed motivation to push through that illness. It wasn't going to hold him for long but it was enough to give him enough energy to go and finish this chore. He went into the kitchen and washed off his roots, starting to cut them up and mash them together with some water. It didn’t take too long but every time the knife blade hit the cutting board, it sounded like a bomb going off in his ears. He wanted it to stop…

         Finally satisfied, he walked back to his brother who was trying to rub his body against the couch, rather like a sneak, Gohan noted. Sitting by his brother, he sighed and Goten echoed his sentiments. The two exchanged looks. Goten pouted. “I want this to go away, Big Brother.”

        “I know.” He responded, scooping some of the cream onto his fingers and attacking the spots on his brother’s back. He heard Goten wince at first at the nasty feeling but then let out a deep sigh of relief once it started to do its magic. He worked from back to front, letting Goten apply some to the spots he had on his genitals. Gohan remembered that. That was easily hell embodied. So, he gave his sibling an extra bit for that, telling him to layer it.

        No problem there. After about fifteen minutes, Goten looked like someone had sprayed him down with yellow paint. He had big globs of it all over his body. But he was sitting still, no longer trying to rub his back or arms. Gohan went to put the jar up but Goten whined, reaching up and grabbing his sibling's wrist with a gooey hand.

       “Big Brother…”

       “…What?”

       “Stay here.” He pouted "Please..."

       “Goten, I hafta finish the dishes—“

       “Just for a little bit.” Goten pleaded. He pointed to the screen. “Until this cartoon’s over please?”

       Gohan made the mistake of looking at his brother’s face. Those wide eyes, combined with the little dots and feverish flushed face was pitiful and only someone like Vegeta coulda said no…and lately, Gohan wondered if even he could have said no. With a giant sigh, he put the jar on the side table and sat down by his brother, folding against the couch cushions in a slouch. Goten immediately curled up and laid his head on Gohan’s lap.

       “Goten," came the half-hearted warning, "Just until this is over…”

       “…Kay…”

       Gohan moved his arm and he felt the remote fall off the couch arm. He groaned but then, seeing how comfortable Goten was, decided, “Well…I can pick it up in a minute…”

* * *

       The smell of something cooking made Gohan blink and open his eyes. He shifted and felt the thin blanket spill off his shoulders. Sitting up, his brother was sleeping by his side. Someone had moved them both to the floor, on one of their floor futons. Goten was dead asleep, a fresh cloth put on his forehead and fresh lotion smeared on his body, including where some new spots had appeared.

       Forcing himself to sit up a little straighter, Gohan felt a wet cloth slip from his own forehead. He caught it in his hands, looking around. He saw a tray with two glasses of tea sitting by his side. He picked up one of them and started to nurse it slowly. It felt good and cold. Shifting back, his elbows hit some pillows strewn across the floor. They felt good and suddenly sitting up seemed like too much work and he laid back, closing his eyes.

       “Why didn’t you call me, Gohan?”

       Opening one eye, Gohan was met with his father’s concerned face. The elder man wiped Gohan’s face with a wet cloth and Gohan sighed in deep relief. That felt so damn good! He didn’t answer his father right away. Goku picked up the glass from the tray and put it to his son’s lips. “Drink some more.” He commanded in his rare don't-argue-with-me tone. While Mother was known as the stern parent, it was a fact that Goku had that side to him too. It just rarely came out.

        It was out right now.

        Gohan accepted the tea and Goku helped him lay back down slightly, propped up a little by the pillows and the couch. Enough that he could still sip the drink but a much more comfortable position than sitting upright. As Gohan obeyed what he was told, Goku moved to Goten, wiping off the old lotion and rubbing on new. Goten opened one eye at the motions and blinked, “Daddy?”

        “Hey, little buddy.” Goku smiled at the younger boy, “Don’t feel so hot, do you?”

        “Big Brother said I got poxed by a chicken.” Goten groaned, laying back down. “Daddy, go make dinner out of it for poxing me!” He demanded as Goku rubbed some lotion onto a bunch of rather new spots on the boy's neck.

        Goku chuckled low under his breath and replied, “You let Daddy worry about that chicken. You worry about restin’ and none of that scratching!” He added, seeing the boy's fingers starting to slowly migrate towards his neck and face.

        The young boy pouted, like a child caught with their hand in the dessert cabinet but he laid down, saying “Can we watch TV?”

        “Not that you two probably haven’t watched enough,” Goku smirked. “But go ahead.”

        Goten started to flip through the channels as Goku went back to Gohan, eyeing him critically, that unspoken question that demanded an answer. Gohan responded, with downtrodden glance,

        “Well, you and Mom were busy and-“

        “And you know we would have come back if we knew you were sick.” Goku raised a brow at his  eldest. "You know that."

        "But I didn't want you to have to come back." Gohan eyed his father “That has to get annoying.”

        “What does?” Goku inquired, taking the empty glass from his son's hands.

        Elaborating, the teen stated, “You know…having to drop everything for us…thought I’d help you out.”

        Goku pushed Gohan’s pillows down so he had to lay down and responded with, “I appreciate it, son but it isn’t annoying.”

        “How can it no-“ He began but Goku was already explaining.

        “Because you’re my son and so is your brother.” He laughed, a little "I mean, sure, being a parent has its drawbacks but it's never annoying that you call me 'cause you're sick!"

        “But-“

        “But nothin’.” Goku said very firmly, laying the cloth back on Gohan’s head and starting to massage the boy’s temples. “Yer my boys. I wanna know when you need me, hear me?”

        “Well-“

        “No, no ‘well.’ You better call me next time, son or you’re grounded!”

         Despite himself, Gohan smirked at his father’s playful threat, though one could argue that it might not be a threat but a promise. Contrary to popular belief, Goku was quite capable of administering parental discipline if need be. He just did it so rarely that when it did happen, you remembered it. Judging by the seriousness in his father's eyes, this might have been one of those times. “…deal.”

         “Good, now get some sleep.” Goku demanded with a firm tone. "Sleep is what helps you mend."

         Falling back against the futon and certainly appreciating the veil of responsibility being lifted, Gohan still felt the need to add, “Sorry Dad.”

         “For what?” Goku asked, standing up slightly.

         “Left you a lot of dishes.” Gohan elaborated "I...mean, like, a lot more than we should have."

         “Stop worrying, Gohan.” He smirked. “I’ve been cleaning up for you for years. No reason to stop now.”

         Gohan didn’t say anything to that. Much as he was an older teen, heck, almost an adult, it was a nice feeling to be cared for. Goku stood up, came back a little while later with some soup for both the boys. Goku wasn’t a great cook, especially with stuff like this but he knew how to use a microwave and open cans. That meant the soup was edible, more or less. Goten needed some prompting and Gohan, though he was loathe to admit it, probably sounded like a whiney baby because the smell of it was making him feel worse. Still, for his father’s sake, he ate a few spoonfuls before lying back down.

         Gohan imagined he hadn’t had his eyes shut very long when he heard Goten ask,

         “Daddy?”

         “Hmm?”

         “Can you read to me?”

         Gohan opened one eye and saw Goten waving of their small picture books at the elder Saiyan. One that used to be Gohan’s when he was young and he’d passed it onto Goten. It had a whole bunch of old ancient myths. Pretty nice paintings in it too, actually. Goku set down the tray he had been carrying and sat down on the futon, settling right between the two boys.

         “Which one, little buddy?” He asked simply, retrieving the old worn book from his youngest.

         “The one about the boy in the peach.” Was the immediate response and Gohan smirked.

         Goku chuckled at the answer, “That used to be Gohan’s favorite.”

         "Really?” Goten perked up a bit "I'm like Big Brother then?"

         "Yep," Goku smiled and ruffled first Gohan and then Goten's hair, "More than you think."

         Happy as a clam, Goten nuzzled his head against Goku’s thigh as he flipped through the pages, finding that story as requested. Gohan eyed the two a moment, old memories playing at his mind. Goku was a really good story teller. He always made the stories seem so real. Like they were history and he had been there and watched them happen and was just relaying them from memory. It made it so even if Gohan had memorized the story, he wanted to see how Daddy would relay it. Daddy could read but not very well. So, for some of the fairy tales, Daddy would sometimes add his own twists to it. So, for a lot of stories, they were never the same twice. Gohan used to believe that Daddy made books magical, that they would change their letters for Daddy.

         “Remember this story Gohan?”

         Gohan blinked, feeling Goku stroke through his black hair. He shifted his eyes up and realized without even noticing, he had nuzzled his head against Goku’s thigh, just as Goten had done on the other side. Maybe he was old enough to read text books that made professors stumble but that didn’t meant he didn’t like a good old fashioned fairy tale every so often. There was nothing like being read to.

          Especially with Daddy doing the reading.

          Smiling faintly at his father then his little brother, he responded, “Is the book’s version or Daddy’s version?”

         Goten interrupted. “Daddy’s version!”

         Goku rubbed first Goten then Gohan’s hair and tossed the book over his shoulder and onto the couch, “Oh, in that case—“

* * *

         Slipping in the front door, ChiChi froze in mid step and set her packages down soundlessly. The house was dark and there was a pile of dishes in the sink. More than that though, her maternal instincts were firing at her.  Walking into the living room, she paused then smiled down at her husband. Goku made a “shh” sound but didn’t move.

        Goten was fast asleep, his mouth slightly open as he used Goku’s thigh for a pillow. Gohan’s eyes were shut, his breathing even as his head was propped against his father’s lower stomach and upper thigh. Goku looked hardly comfortable and the way he could occasionally massage his lower legs, ChiChi knew that his legs had fallen asleep. However, as he always did when Gohan was younger, he refused to move and just gave his wife a happy grin.

        “Tough boys, Goten tol’ me.” ChiChi smiled, shaking her head, kneeling down to stroke the hair out of her poor boys' faces.

        “They are.” Goku responded, looking down at his children with a warm smile that burned from the depths of his soul. “My tough _ _little_ _ boys.”

 


	11. Let Me Pretend

_**TIME FRAME: THE NIGHT AFTER THE DEFEAT OF MAJIN BUU; GOHAN IS 17, GOTEN IS 7** _

“I got it Mom.”

“No, no Goten, it’s okay I—“ ChiChi’s shouts came too late as the pile of dishes she had set by the sink went flying at the young half-saiyan’s tug, landing on the ground with a sickening crash. Goten, to his credit, leapt to the air instantly which kept the shards of porcelain from slicing his legs too badly. ChiChi wondered to herself why she still had not gone to plastic or paper plates. She had rejected the notion years ago when Gohan had recommended it but now it seemed it was becoming more and more plausible.

Hearing his mother’s dejected sigh made Goten wince and he turned his eyes downcast. “Sorry, Mom. I thought I’d help you—“

“Out of my kitchen Goten.” The woman was touched by his attempts to help but any Saiyan in the kitchen could only be followed by disaster. She had learned that with Goku and he had passed that trait down to both his offspring. They were both spitting images of their father and not just in appearance. They both were disastrous in the kitchen. Gohan could cook, slightly, if it was not too complicated but that was the result of years and years of hair pulling frustration on her part. Neither of them seemed to have her skill with the stove. She just hoped that Videl had some type of talent…or would be willing to fork over the money for someone that did.

Though she would be glad to go over and cook for her son and future-daughter-in-law! Despite Gohan’s flustered insistence that they were just NOW officially “going out” ChiChi had the intuition of a mother. She had seen the same gleam in Videl’s eyes that she carried in hers for Goku. She had whispered to Goku on the way back if he thought the same and he had simply laughed and told her to let the red string do its work which was more than enough proof for her. The fact that Goku had spoken to his son in private a few minutes before the feasting had begun was the icing on the cake!

The battle with Buu was done and their little party had ended. Despite playing around in the tub outside and ultimately destroying it (though it was hardly the first time) Goten had managed to get cleaned up. If there was one thing Goku was good at, it was connecting with children. When they finally caught up with Gotenks, the child found himself thrown into the indoor bath and scrubbed down of all the mud. He had whined and complained about it until Goku had commented at least ChiChi wasn’t tanning his hide for destroying the tub (though technically it had been Goku that had blown it up) then the boy had gone quiet rather quickly. She may not have matched their strength but as anyone who had known the Son family for very long knew, ChiChi was a dangerous opponent.

The boys’ time had worn out soon enough and Goku had ushered Goten to go put his pajamas on before ChiChi got on his case. Of course, Goku could have cared less but he knew how his wife was, especially with guests in their home. As for Trunks, he was naturally a bit more…well, modest than Goten and had been quick to retrieve some clothes. Trunks was over at Goten’s so much and vice versa that Goku found the purple haired child just pulled a set of shorts and shirt from the bottom of one of Goten’s sock drawers.

“Goten, why is my dragon’s shirt over here?” Trunks had protested, holding up the offending green t shirt to which Goten had laughed, rubbed the back of his neck and responded

“I dunno…you probably have my missing clothes too!”

Thus had ended that conversation. Goku had just leaned in the doorway and listened intently. He found their interactions intriguing and very joyful to listen to. It was one thing to hear a bunch of fighters discussing this technique or that technique but to be able to hear children again, and HIS child at that, it made him swell up with more pride than he usually found permissible. He had just met his youngest and yet that was all the introduction he needed. It was his son, his child. He felt his heart swell with that same emotion that he had felt with his first-born came along.

Speaking of which, Goku frowned as he paced the family halls, appreciating the familiar atmosphere. Gohan had been eyeing him the entire night but he had never actually come up to him. Goku had gone to call him over once or twice but Gohan had been pulled away by Videl or Goten had chosen then to come darting over, wanting some of his attention. Goten certainly had the energy of three children and Goku loved it. He enjoyed seeing Goten dart over to him, grinning and jumping all over the place, just so full of himself and so happy. Goku had to admit, he was a little tired, more so than he normally would be, even after a battle and a celebration. His seven year old had accomplished in wearing him down, not unlike his first born had the ability to do.

Well, one thing was for certain, having two children as opposed to one certainly made Goku reevaluate how he interacted with them. He would have to make time for both of them now and while he knew Goten wanted to get to know him and he certainly was not opposed to it, he wanted some time with his first child as well! He would most definitely have to change that when Gohan came back home. He had left about an hour ago to take Videl home, though she could certainly go home on her own but as Goku and everyone else knew, ChiChi would have a fit if her son was not a “gentleman.” So, ChiChi fixed up the kitchen and Goku started to bring in the firewood.

That in itself made Goku grin. It was like back to how things were before. There was something so comforting about falling back into that pattern.

Pushing open the front door to head back outside for one more load of wood, he nearly tripped over a spiky haired boy running around his legs, “I’ll get it Daddy!”

Goku laughed and grasped his youngest, pulling him up off the ground, “Uh, uh uh.” Goku told him softly as he ruffled his hair. “Your mom’ll kill us both if you run out there in your PJs.”

Goten pouted and eyed his father “Aw…” He puffed out his lower lip but Goku was well used to that look. Still, that didn't mean he felt bad for telling the boy no. He sympathized with the child, especially given all the changes and excitement he had gone through in the past twenty-four hours. No wonder he was still riled up. Goku wondered briefly how they were EVER going to get him down for bed. He and ChiChi had a few rules and a bedtime had always been one of them when Gohan had been little. He did not suspect his wife had changed much in that regard.

Goku set his son down and ruffled the boy’s black hair, “You wanna help Daddy?”

At this, Goten beamed and nodded quickly. Goku smiled at the boy’s gentle enthusiasm. “Well, your brother’s going to be home soon, why don’t you set out some clothes for him and get your toys ready for bed?”

Goten thought this over a moment then asked, “Can they sleep in bed with me?” He asked seriously. “Big Brother lets them.”

A warm paternal smirk, “Well, we wouldn’t want them to lonely, now would we?”

The younger Half-Saiyan shook his head. “I keep them safe.” He declared and flexed his muscles “See?”

Goku whistled sharply “Oh, I think no one would dare mess with little warrior Goten, would they?” He teased his child gently, still ruffling his hair. “You did me proud today.”

Laughing, hovered in the air just a bit, Goten opened his arms for a hug, saying “Really? Did we do good?”

With a broad smile and nod, Goku pulled his child tight to his chest. Goten giggled and returned the embrace, saying “Big Brother always said you gave good hugs.”

The Saiyan smiled “He did, did he?” His heart ached a bit. This was...only the third hug he'd been able to give his youngest? "And was he right?"

Giving a sharp affirmative, the boy stated, "Yep! Big Brother hugs like you, too!" Attention divided again, the child squirmed from his father's grip and landed on the floor. “I did you good on the battlefield, I’ll show you I can do more! So, get clothes for Big Brother and get my animals ready?”

Goku laughed as the child took off down the hall “Then meet Daddy back here. We’ll relax a little bit tonight but Daddy has a game for you too.”

* * *

 

ChiChi, despite herself, chuckled in memory as she rubbed the plate clean in her hand. As much of a mess as they had made, it was impossible to stay mad at them for long. Goten had gotten dressed for bed, grabbed clothes for his brother, which she noted were identical to his own and she doubted that was by accident, and then the young boy had wandered into the living room as she finished dinner dishes up. Focusing on the plate, she yelped in surprise at the warm breath on her neck.

“Hey, ChiChi!”

She smiled and turned, giving her husband a half glare though he just laughed at it; he had learned a long time ago which of her glares were to be dreaded and which were not. This fell into the “not” category. She had been cheery most of the night, except for the incident with the outside tub but even that seemed to fall into hazy memory. Her gentle smile was infectious as she let her husband tease her hair a little bit. “Goku, you’re lucky I wasn’t washing knives.”

He laughed out loud again. “Wouldn’t be the first time I got stabbed by somethin’”

ChiChi scoffed but she really didn’t have a good response to that. “What’s Goten doing now?” she inquired as she set her last dish down and dried her hands on her skirt. “Last time I saw him, he was running from his room to the bathjroom, to the living room…”

Goku laughed out loud. “He’s fine. I gave him a game to play with.”

ChiChi raised a brow at him. “Is anything breakable in it?”

He eyed her and she shook her head “Goku, your youngest is, well…”

“Rambunctious?” Goku tried.

“I suppose that’s one way to put it.” She smiled as they walked into the living room. She looked about but saw no sign of her son. She turned to Goku who simply put a finger to his lips.

“I tol’ Goten to see if he could avoid being caught by Daddy tonight.”

ChiChi smirked and stood back, leaning against the wall, folding her arms. “Don’t destroy anything else,” She warned with a slight pinch to her voice but even she couldn’t avoid the gentle smile that came across in her vocal tone. She remembered playing this game with Gohan, though it was not as much fun after he started training. He could avoid her easily. When Goten was older, she had begun to train him so she could keep up with him but it seemed she had been left behind in the dust again; she couldn’t sense his ki anymore than she could fly.

However, her motherly ears easily caught his barely contained giggle from behind one of their cushioned chairs. She raised a brow as Goku paraded around the room, taking note of his huge grin. His ears had caught Goten’s laugh just as easily as hers had but being the playful man he was, he wanted the boy to play a bit. So, he stalked around the room, quietly, saying out loud “Wow, he really can hide his ki, can’t he?”

ChiChi chuckled “You can blame Gohan for that.”

Goku smiled widely “Well, he taught him good.”

ChiChi rubbed her temples but not without a laugh “Well, Goku. Taught him well.”

Goku gave his wife a teasing grin “That too.”

He continued on his search, though he knew exactly where Goten was. He lifted a chair or two before slowly making his way back towards where his youngest was crouched.

 

Goten kept one hand over his mouth as his father walked around the entire room. He had his ki down low and now all he had to do was keep himself quiet. That was so hard to do though! Daddy was way off! It was a hard thing to not call, ‘wrong, wrong!’ The wind from outside blew his hair around a little bit but maybe that was a good thing; Big Brother said that Daddy had a good nose too. Well, the wind would mess that up, right? Actually, did Daddy even know his scent? Goten had heard about animals memorizing their children’s scents from Gohan but Daddy had been dead for a long time. Had he taken the time to recognize his scent?

Drawn from his thoughts, Goten readied himself, fully prepared to leap at his father and scare him to death as he passed by—

“Boo!”

The voice came from above him as two hands grasped his ribs.

Screeching, he shot up into the air and landed into a pair of outstretched hands. Goku grinned down at him “hey, I thought you were trying to keep quiet.”

Goten turned, finding the source of his give-away to be the form of his elder brother, leaning half in the window, grinning. He caught his breath and accused “No fair, Gohan!”

The eldest of the Son children merely grinned and climbed in the rest of the way through the window. “I wasn’t even hiding my ki, Goten.” He smiled and reached out, ruffling his brother’s hair. Goten finally gave a smirk in response but replied

“You DO know I’ll hafta get you back, right, Big Brother?”

The teen just laughed, falling into a half stance “Oh, let’s see you try.”

Goten just gave a grin from his spot in Goku’s arms and stuck out his tongue at his sibling. Gohan rolled his eyes with a laugh “Oh, yeah, Mister Toughie because you’re in Daddy’s arms.”

The Saiyan Father laughed out loud again as Goten scrambled from his arms and over his shoulder to hang like a monkey. Gohan used to do that all the time and he remembered doing it when he was younger with his Grandpa. Perhaps it was Son family trait…?

Goten stuck his head over his father’s shoulder and grinned “So come get me, Big Brother.”

Amused, the teenager gave his sibling a grin and sprung after him, circling his father a good many times before hopping over his father’s shoulder. Goku laughed again, lifting Goten up over his head where the child squealed as his sibling just took to the air and grasped him around the chest, tickling his sides. The spiky haired child yelped with a pant, “No fair, no fair tickling!”

Gohan just grinned, hovering over his father and his mother who was approaching shaking her head, and replied to his sibling “Hey, in a battle, all’s fair.”

Screeching but grinning even as his face turned red, Goten called down “Daddy, help me!”

Eyeing his two children, the Saiyan gave his eldest a slow grin, one that Gohan had missed. It had been so many years but he still saw that glint of mischief that sparkled in them. He missed that playfulness. He had grown accustomed to p[laying with Goten, to taking care of both him and his mother but now, now that his father was back, all of that was accessible to him again. He longed for it. So, when his father reached up and snagged his left ankle, he still managed a grin even though he knew what was coming.

Yanking down hard, but not hard enough to cause any harm, Goku brought his two sons to a heap with him on the floor and proceeded to attach to his eldest’s son’s neck, with fingers that moved fast enough to simply resemble a blur to ChiChi. The human woman just smiled though, taking a strange sense of relief and connection from this different yet oddly familiar scene. She remembered so many nights, especially as Gohan grew older and stronger, of the two wrestling and laughing on the living room floor. It was much missed.

The laugh that rang from Gohan’s throat was much needed. He laughed far less than his parents would have liked but given the situations he was pushed into, this was not a surprising reaction. The resulting laugh both pleased and saddened Goku. It was happy, relaxed and full of energy just like he remembered it. But it was no longer a little boy’s high pitched giggle. There was a deep baritone to his voice, one that nearly matched his own. Now, Goku had never been naïve enough to think Gohan would never age but to be suddenly faced with the reality of it was unsettling.

He strove to keep this out of his face but he was sure it was reflected in his eyes, even if it was brief. Focusing to keep that thought away, he instead gave his focus to the laughing twosome in his arms. It made his arms feel full and that was truly a feeling he had missed. It was one thing to occupy yourself with training, or even with chatting with some of the other long-dead warriors, something he had begun to feel his time with but it was something else entirely to just flop to the ground with your loved ones in your arms.            

ChiChi’s bright laugh cut through his thoughts as she approached, putting her hands on her hips. “Son Gohan, you’re filthy.”

The teenager gave a laugh as he sat up, rubbing the back of his head in a mirror image of his father’s. “Sorry, Mom. I took the scenic route.”

Raising a brow at him, Gohan stood, saying “Videl wanted to see some of the mountain side so I showed her.”

Here, ChiChi’s anger seemed to dissipate and she beamed widely. “Did you…”

“No, Mom, I did NOT kiss her.” Gohan rolled his eyes at his mother’s downcast face even as his face turned a bright red. “I showed her around, and then we flew back to Satan City and I dropped her off.”

“Well…you can’t blame me for hoping…” She settled her eyes on his oldest son, smiling. “Sometimes a mother needs to give her children a little push…”

“Mom…really, if you push anymore, you’re going to break Mach 2.” He did smile at her though and say “I’ll go clean up though…”

Goten perked up “I found you some clothes, Big Brother.”

Gohan gave his little brother a smile and ruffled his hair “Gee, thanks.”

“Then you can come play, right?” Goten asked, grinning. “Daddy and I are gonna play right?” he asked, his bright eyes shimmering.

Goku gave a huge grin and hugged his youngest tightly, “What should we play?”

“I’ll ‘plain while we wait for Big Brother.”

* * *

 

Gohan dried his hair off and wiped some of the steam off of the mirror. It was still hard to comprehend. They were not a family of three anymore…they were four, like they were supposed to be! He could hear his father laughing downstairs and occasionally, he would hear his mother giggle. He had to admit though that he focused on his father’s laugh more than anything else. Even through Goten’s chattering and the sound of ChiChi putting up the last of dishes, he focused on that familiar baritone that he thought he had heard for the last time.

When he had hugged his father before he had run to fight Buu, he had held on tightly, not wanting to let go. He supposed his father might have seemed callous by the way he had just patted his back but it wasn’t that Goku wasn’t affectionate…far from it! He remembered numerous hugs, hair ruffles, kisses and dozens of other things growing up. His father had cut back on them when Gohan had turned nine, mainly because Gohan had started to get a pride about him; it was also the same time he switched from Daddy to Dad. He had wanted to hug his father before he went to fight Cell but because the others had been there, he had resisted and instead smiled.

It was one of the biggest regrets he had, not taking that last second.

So, when he had chosen to turn and fight Buu, he had clung to his father desperately. He had felt in his father’s ki the same desire but he knew that was why Goku had not hugged him back; he would not have been able to make himself let go if he had. It had been many twists of Fate that brought Goku back to them and he was grateful beyond recognition to everything involved. He still could not believe that he would wake up tomorrow morning to find his father raiding his mother’s breakfasts, that his father would be there to race over Mount Paouz, to take him and Goten on picnics and of course, train.

He refused to become as weak as he had become before. He had taken his father’s sacrifice for granted and had not kept himself strong. Granted, there had been a large number of factors at work and it was certainly not because he did not possess the desire but regardless, it had happened. He had let himself slack and horrible consequences had come of it. It would NOT happen again.

Shaken from his rather dismal thoughts, Gohan smiled at his reflection as he pulled on his slacks and undershirt. Leave it to Goten to pick out matching clothes but he would humor his baby brother. He found it amusing that Goten found him worthy of looking up to. Gohan remembered all too well wearing the same clothes as his father and relishing in how much they looked alike. Truthfully, he still did, that was why he had taken on his father’s colors. Only, this time, he would do them proud.

Tossing the towel in the basket, he headed for the door, pausing as he got to the doorframe. He had almost forgotten but his father had used to mark on the door how tall they were. On the right side was his father’s height, almost unchanged but still marked at least 6 times and on the left were his, faded by time but still there. They were marked in his father’s choppy handwriting as “Gohan, 5” and went all the way up age 10/11. He remembered protesting that but his father had insisted he wanted one after they came out of the Time Chamber.

It was the last one marked. He supposed he could have kept it up but it had lost its meaning without his father there to compare to. It just wasn’t the same measuring up to his mother. He surpassed her in height by the time he was fifteen.

Looking up at the marking on his father’s side, the half Saiyan flushed bright red but unable to help himself, he pushed his back straight against the wall and slid his hand to the top of his head to measure the spot. Stepping away from the doorframe, he froze.

His hand hovered a good inch, perhaps two even, over his father’s last marking. Pulling his hand away, Gohan paused, pondering how the hell that had happened. When had he surpassed his father in height even if it was just an insignificant amount? It didn’t seem possible.

Shaking his head, he closed the door and headed downstairs, focusing his attention on his father and brother’s voice.

“Hey, you guys aren’t playing without me, are you?”

Goten beamed and rushed his sibling as he came in the door “No, but I was telling how we made the game outta sparring, ‘member?”

Gohan did not bother to remind his sibling that it had only been a week or so at the most since they last did that, instead, smirking “Sure..”

Goku burst out laughing. “You have GOT to show me, Gohan.” From what Goten had told him, it was a treat to watch. He wanted to see what game his boys had come up with!

Gohan raised a brow “And get all sweaty?” He teased, “Mom’ll kill us.”

“Eh, you don’t have to go that long, I just wanna see! Lemme see!” Goku whined, sounding like a child wanting a toy. Relenting under his father’s insistence, Gohan let the Son grin grace his face and took a small fighting stance as Goten mimicked his movements. He eyed his brother’s stance a moment then switched his arms slightly so he was matching. Gohan gave a grin and gave a laugh, putting an air of innocence and playfulness to his normally more serious baritone. “well, come on at me! It’ll be fun!”

Goten tilted his head to make his nose edge up at the air, “You are wasting your time, clown! _I_ am the best of the Saiyans!”

Goku burst out laughing, even from that first exchange; there was no question in his mind who they were imitating. Goten charged his brother who dodged, and struck back, though it felt weird not using ki blasts. He didn’t want his mother wanting to kill them for breaking something. As it was, it was tough to stay in the center of the living room without hitting any furniture but the twosome managed it, all the while throwing comments at one another, ranging from “I am the Prince of All Saiyans” to “Gee, you really needa lighten up!”

Gohan ended the sparring match before it got out of control but giving his sibling a small nudge in the ribs, just enough to bring him to his knees and put his hand on the back of his hea,d laughing, “Sorry, saw an opening that screamed out “Attack”….so I did!”

Goten took a moment to get his breath then giggled and stood up, whirling around “What do you think, Daddy? Who was I?”

Goku’s face was red from laughing so much and he rocked back and forth on the ground like a child watching a favorite show. Taking a moment to gather his breath, he asked “Vegeta?”

Goten beamed and nodded “Yep, Big Brother can’t play Vegeta…he’s not short enough.”

At this, Goku laughed again “make sure Vegeta doesn’t hear you say that.” Standing up, he ruffled the boy’s hair and then pulled his older son into a headlock, giving him a noogie. “And someone certainly watched me enough in battle, didn’t they?”

Gohan laughed again but didn’t try to squirm loose. He liked being able to frolic and play around with his father again. It was like getting an old drink back that you had been denied for years. It was sweet and he wanted to savor it. Goten wrapped his arms around Goku’s leg and spoke out “Sometimes we play other games too. Like, Big Brother makes a really cool dragon or a dinosaur!”

Goku released his oldest and smirked, reaching down to toss Goten into the air “Oh, does he? Does his dinosaur chase you down?”

Goten giggled and nodded “Yep but I puts up a good fight.”

Goku gave his two child a smile and said “Well, has he ever dealt with a Daddy Dinosaur?” Throwing Goten across his shoulders, He lunged at Gohan, fingers spread with a loud “RAWWR!”

* * *

 

 

Leaning over the back of the chair, ChiChi brushed the hair from her husband’s face. He opened his eyes from meditation and smiled at her. She gave him a knowing smile of her own and nodded past him with a “Was that your plan all along?”

Turning, Goku let a smile grace his features, not his usual jovial smile but a deeper, more thoughtful one that spread up to his eyes. Gohan was lying sprawled across the couch, arms thrown over his face, light but steady breathing emerging from his body. At the other end of the couch, Goten was curled into a ball like a tiny kitten, occasional light snores coming from his mouth. Goku chuckled, faintly, replying to his wife “No but it’s a nice perk.” Standing, he stretched and ChiChi joined him, just standing there, watching their children sleep. “We just wanted to pretend for a while.”

ChiChi smiled brightly, tears in her eyes “Gohan is so good with Goten about that. I’ve lost track of the number of animals, monsters and other creatures he’s become.”

Goku shifted his gaze and gave her a gentle peck on the lips “Well, we used to do that with Gohan, remember?”

ChiChi smiled fondly at the memory. She did. She and Goku used to play all manner of imaginary games with Gohan. As he grew older, ChiChi participated less and less, becoming more focused on keeping Gohan straight on the scholar path. Thinking back, as well as watching Gohan laugh and screech as he fell right into the imaginary game with his father and brother, she regretted it immensely. Would it have killed her to play the damsel in distress or perhaps be the magical cloud queen one more time? Perhaps even the mother dinosaur?

She did regret it. Sometimes, she wished she could slip into the innocence state that Goku seemed to perpetually carry around yet was able to put on the back burner if need be. It was jealousy inducing really, to be able to shift so easily. One would have thought Gohan would have rejected the imaginary games but no, sometimes he was the one instigating them with his sibling. It really was beautiful to watch her two sons lose themselves in some imaginary adventure. Add in one jovial and happy-go-lucky father and you could hardly blame someone for embracing it.

“Well, you certainly fell back into the pretending mode.”

Goku gave her a laugh, “Ah, it’s fun to pretend. Let ‘em pretend.”

Chancing a glance at the clock, she gave him a smile in response as she walked over, gently, lifting Goten into her arms. He stirred lightly but did not awaken. Looking down at him fondly, he turned into her chest. Whispering, she stated “They need to get to bed. I’ll take Goten up and you can get Gohan.” She knew Gohan would awaken easily and follow his father up to bed. He usually didn’t protest going to bed, especially if she had to wake him up from wherever he had fallen asleep. Goku gave her a nod as she carried her youngest up the stairs and towards the bedroom. Lying him down in bed, she was just pulling the sheets up his chin when she heard her husband slowly approaching behind her. Turning, she blinked once then twice.

“Goku…really?”

The Saiyan father smiled a sad smile as he adjusted the teenager in his arms “What, it’s not like I can’t carry him.”

Shaking her head, she stated “Gohan will kill you if he finds out. He’s still that prideful teenager Goku.”

Shrugging, Goku stated “Wouldn’t be the first time he’s been mad at me, besides he looked too peaceful to wake up.” Crossing the room, he laid his eldest down and knelt by his bedside as he pulled the sheets up “And it’s been seven years.”

ChiChi went quiet at that. She had not thought about the simple things like that Goku would have missed. Keeping her voice low, she stated “It felt good to pretend with Gohan again, didn’t it?”

Goku smiled “Always feels good to play with my kids.” He told her simply “Pretending lets you escape for a bit and after Buu, I say let ‘em escape!”

Leaning over her youngest, ChiChi gave him a kiss on the temple then repeated the motion with her oldest. She touched her husband’s shoulder, leaning over and kissing him. “Well, we have a few days to let them escape but you’re going to need your energy for it.”

He gave an affirmative nod, saying “I’ll be in in a few minutes.”

Walking out the door, she turned the light off, leaving Goku alone with his two boys. The Saiyan father sat on the ground a moment, looking from one to the other. He eyed Goten, trying to imagine what it must have been to hold an infant Goten in his arms. To hear him laugh for the first time, to see him take his first steps. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to picture it. That wide, innocent face with those bright shining eyes and what must have transpired to teach him all the things he had learned, to see him stare in wonder at the animals of Mount Paouz and yes, to play Dinosaur Chase with him.

He had a chance to do that now and that thrilled him. He didn’t know how long it would be before the schools wanted the kids back but ChiChi had said a few days. Maybe he could convince her to let him have a few weeks. He had ways of convincing his wife unless she was absolutely opposed. Something told him he may be able to win this one. His eyes lit up at the thought of taking Goten around the mountains, showing him the waterfall where and Gohan used to fish, letting him show him what he had learned, taking him on a rapid fire flight…

Yes, he looked forward to that.

Turning, Goku settled his eyes on his oldest child, his Gohan. The years had made him tall, deepened his voice but his face was still that wide eyed innocent baby that had gurgled back at him so many years ago. It was still the same little boy who used to run from snakes and hide behind his father’s leg, still the young boy that matured far too quickly. Reaching out, Goku stroked the black hair away from his son’s face. He had seen so much joy light up in his son’s face tonight, regardless of how “prideful” he might have been. That was why he had scooped his son up and carried him. Yes, he could have woken him up but he had seen such longing in his son’s face as they played tonight. The same longing that Goku had embraced. How much had he missed? Seven years…the largest price tag that any battle had ever asked of him.

Reaching out, Goku took hold of one of his son’s hands. Looking down, he sighed. It nearly matched his own, if not quite as tanned or calloused. He remembered when he could take his son’s hand in his and the boy’s fingers wrapped around his thumb. He remembered when those tiny hands wrapped around his upper arms and he would lift the boy off the ground to the delight of the boy’s laughter. He remembered those tiny hands clutching to his in fear right before the Cell Games. He remembered…

Closing his eyes a moment, he settled on his son’s face again. While they features had become more defined, he could still see the same young boy in that face that he had told goodbye on a bloodied battlefield. Stroking his forehead a moment, he kissed the boy on the head, saying, mainly to himself “You’ve grown into a wonderful young man, son…but let Daddy pretend…just for a little bit.”

Standing up, he pulled the covers tight around his teenaged son and after giving Goten a kiss as well, he headed out the door but paused and left it cracked, letting a bit of light flood into the darkened room as he walked down the hall.

Gohan let a smile grace his face.

 


	12. Growing Pains

_**TIME FRAME: DURING THE TRAINING FOR THE ANDROIDS; GOHAN IS 8 YEARS OLD** _

 

Gohan hurt.

A lot.

His legs hurt, his arms hurt, and his head hurt, every piece and fiber of his body hurt. He really shouldn’t have been surprised but he was. After all, Daddy and Mr. Piccolo were both hard teachers. They were becoming harder and harder the closer they got to the Android invasion. Even Daddy was getting harder and usually Goku was the one that was telling Piccolo he was too hard. Gohan was glad for the change though. He felt like he was becoming stronger by the day and when even his father told him “to get up” he felt like he was a step closer to being an equal fighter, not someone his father and the others had to protect. He could not afford to be a liability.

Not that he minded the cool comfort of his bed at night though.

However, the burning of his muscles made it exceptionally hard to sleep. He found it hard to focus or get comfortable. Usually, he slept on his side, but tonight, he was trying every way possible. He turned onto his back. Ouch…bad idea. The muscles in his upper shoulders protested this position immensely. They screamed out in pain, pounding on the inside of his skin like a million tiny needles. Shifting, slowly, so to appease the burning in his body, he settled on his belly, turning his head so that he could breathe. No good that way either. Now, it was his abs that were screaming in agony, like they were coated in red hot coals. He sat up, pulled his knees to his chest, trying to lie on his left side this time. That was slightly better but his legs were twitching, his muscles constantly trying to readjust. He sat up a little bit, rubbing at his lower extremities. No good. Why did Daddy make it look so easy? Daddy’s massages would knock out a dinosaur. Not too surprising, considering how large his father’s hands were.

Kicking aside his covers, the boy sat up, pulling on his night slippers. Slipping out into the hallway, he stuck his head down the hall, then slowly made his way towards his parents’ bedroom. His legs protested every movement and he couldn’t help but emit a slight “Ow!” with each step. He paused and pushed open his parents’ door slowly, watching the stream of light filter in on his mother’s face. She groaned lightly before rolling over but she stayed silent. Gohan let out a slight sigh of relief that he hadn’t woken her before making his way, slowly to his father’s side of the bed. He paused, a moment, listening.

His parents’ room was quiet as it always was. Contrary to his friends’ joking, Daddy did not snore at least not loudly . Neither did Mom. Now, Grandpa, HE snored! That was one reason Gohan routinely didn’t like to stay overnight at Grandpa’s. He loved visiting the older man but it was impossible to sleep over there. Last time, he’d heard the man even through the thick stone walls. But his parents’ room was always peaceful at night, illuminated with only their faint breathing sounds. Truth be told, he hated waking either one of them up because they always looked so pleasant. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes he would find them sleeping almost directly against one another, his father’s arm wrapped around his mother’s waist. He left them be at that sight but had asked his father in the morning about it. Goku had laughed, hand behind his head and said that his wife called it ‘spooning.’ Made her sleep better apparently.

They weren’t spooning tonight though. ChiChi was curled up on her side and Goku was lying on his opposite side, one arm flung over his face, the other buried under his own weight. Gohan sometimes fell asleep like that and would wake up with a numb arm. He wondered, briefly, if he got it from his father and smiled at the idea. He loved hearing what traits he got from which parent; he knew for a fact that his temper was all from Mom. He loved hearing that even little things, like the way he slept or ate came from his father. It was always encouraging to hear you had the traits of someone you admired so.

Speaking of which, he remembered his reasoning for coming in here by way of the sharp pain that bit through his lower leg. Wincing, he rubbed it briefly but felt little relief. He had tried a lot of things for relief, everything except medication. Despite being eight years old and fully capable of taking care of himself, Daddy and Mom told him fiercely that he was not to touch any of the medication, herbal or otherwise, without one of them. Even Goku, who usually was more encouraging of independence than his mother was, had been stern on it. So, while he was sure he knew what herbal mixtures he needed, he opted to obey his parents instead.

He touched his father’s arm, gently, shaking it, whispering “Daddy…”

Goku groaned and opened his eyes, finding his son by his bedside. Yawning, he sat up, stretching, “What is it, Gohan? Didn’t wet the bed again did you?”

Gohan flushed bright red in the dark of the room, “Haven’t done that for two years Daddy!” He pouted lightly; that was still a tender topic with him. It was embarrassing!

“Nightmare?” His father tried again, still not getting out of bed but he turned so he was facing his child, smiling lightly at him. He still looked half asleep but the gentleness of his voice never wavered. Nightmares were more common in the Son household than most people would have thought so this would not be an uncommon occurrence although it was becoming much rarer that Gohan woke his parents up for it. Usually, it had to be a pretty bad nightmare to bring him into their bedroom, especially since they began their training for the Android attacks.

“Nu uh.” With a shake of the head, Gohan dashed this possibility from his father’s mind and clarified, “I wanted somethin’ for my muscles, they hurt.”

Blinking, Goku sat up, kicking his sheets aside, “Oh, okay.” Standing, he stretched a little more then headed out the door, gesturing his son to follow. Gohan did so, though not without a wince when he moved his legs. His father’s eyes took careful note of this but he didn’t say anything. As they walked towards the kitchen, his father asked “Did you do your cool-down exercises?”

Gohan nodded “Sure, I did those while you and Piccolo were finishing up.”

Goku gave a nod but paused just before opening the cabinets. He frowned, thinking. “Say, Gohan?”

The child looked up, sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs, “yeah, Daddy?”

Goku knelt down on one knee, smiling at his only child. “Lemme see.”

Gohan promptly extended one of his aching legs. Goku pressed lightly into the muscles, finding that yes there were a few knots there but not as many as he suspected. The boy’s muscles were growing and not just from the trauma they were putting them under. He thought a moment, then said “Well, you’re putting them through the ringer, Gohan.”

The boy nodded “I know. I tried to use other things for them but—“

Goku laughed lightly but Gohan knew his father enough to know it was not personally directed. “I wasn’t saying that because I’m disappointed, son.” He clarified as he stood back up and retrieved a small jar from the cabinet. He poured a little of it into his hand before mixing it with some tea that they had in the fridge. “I was saying that I’m not surprised they hurt. You’re making them grow and they were already growing.” He handed the glass to his son, saying “Drink that down,” as he continued, “You didn’t think your mother and I hadn’t noticed the growth spurt, did you?”

Gohan sipped at his tea a moment then gagged and pulled it away from his mouth “Aack!”

Goku laughed a bit louder that time, “I know, I know it tastes nasty but it’s—“

“Nasty, nothing, Daddy” the child protested “It’s dis-gust-ing.” He was very sure to put emphasis on the word. He had taken this type of medicine before so it was not a surprise but it still never tasted any better. When he was younger, Goku used to give him an ice cream with it but he was getting too big for that now. Yes…just like he was getting too big to be whining about the taste. He had woken his father up because he hurt, now the man was helping him and all he could do was gag at the nasty taste? That was not very sensitive of him.

He eyed his father, plugged his nose and downed the rest of the glass in one gulp though he could not help the “yuck!” that came from his throat. He set the glass down and felt his father ruffle his hair again. He smiled at the gesture and asked, “Daddy, whatta you mean a growth spurt?”

Goku let a grin pass his face, despite his sleepiness. “You’re eatin’ more because your muscles are growin’. They were growin’ before we started training and now we’re just speedin’ it along. Every time you stretch a muscle, it repairs itself and gets stronger but they’re already gettin’ stronger because you’re growing older.” He stood up and his son followed suit.

“I don’t feel older, Daddy” he admitted, rubbing his neck. That was the truth. He still felt like he was always running to keep pace with his father and Piccolo, let alone hoping to meet or surpass them. In fact, he had pretty much accepted that he would never surpass Piccolo and that surpassing his father was something he could achieve only in his dreams and even there, the logical part of his brain would awake just long enough to remind him of how impossible it was. Still, it was a nice thought to have and it gave him inspiration.

Goku smirked “Well, I see it. You aren’t waking me up like you used to, you’re taking charge in the training, you’re jumping right into it, and you’re choosing to eat everything and not just the meats and fish.” He teased a bit here as when Gohan was younger, not even four years ago, it was a chore to make him eat any vegetables. Goku managed to get some in him by eating them himself and Gohan tried to mimic him and ChiChi did her best to doctor them up but it was still like pulling teeth. Now though, especially since they were training and trying to get stronger, Gohan was eating them without protest though it was obvious he still didn’t like some of them. Goku was also acutely aware of the fact that Gohan’s gi pant legs were rising more and more above the ankle.

Gohan gave his father a smile in response to the light teasing and followed him upstairs. It would take a bit for the herbal tea to have any effect but he was grateful for it. He supposed he could suffer about an hour before it kicked in.

“Where are you going, little man?”

Pausing in his tread, Gohan blinked, turning from the door, “Uh…back to bed?”

Goku blinked then asked, stepping forward “You mean your muscles don’t hurt anymore?”

Turning, he walked to meet his father mid-way, “Well, yeah they still hurt but I know the tea takes time to work.”

Goku ruffled his son’s hair “And if they still hurt then Daddy’s job isn’t done. His job’s to make the pain stop.”

Gohan blushed a little bit. As flattering as it was to have his father fussing over him, it also served to remind him of all the things he couldn’t do yet. It was encouraging because it pushed him to do more but it likewise was frustrated that he was still so limited. He only needed to replay the day’s training session in his mind to come to that conclusion. He was disgusted by it. He was sure he could have done better. He knew he could do better and he WOULD do better! But…yet, here he was, waking his father up because he hurt? What kind of fighter did that? A weak one.

“No,” his father’s deep voice penetrated his thoughts and lifted his chin so he was forced to look into his eyes. He blinked in surprise though, he had spoken out loud? His cheeks burned an even deeper shade but that calmed a bit when his father spoke out again, taking on a stern tone that he rarely used. In fact, Gohan could count on his fingers of one hand the number of times that his father has brought out that stern tone. It served its purpose though; when Goku brought out that tone, Gohan’s thoughts all fled except for focusing on what his father was saying.

Goku purposely did not kneel down that time; he had learned a long time ago that if he wanted to make an impact, for some reason, standing at his full height seemed to do it. So he glanced down into his son’s eyes and intoned “I don’t want to hear that kind of talk, son. You are not weak, do you hear me?

Gohan would have lowered his head but his father had too firm a grip on his chin so he settled for diverting his eyes instead. “Daddy,” he spoke quietly, “I’m getting my tail handed to me every single time we go train. I barely get any hits on you or Piccolo.”

Goku considered this for a moment, thinking hard then stated “How old are you, son?”

Taken by surprise by the sudden question, Gohan blanched “What?”

Chuckling lightly, Goku repeated “How old are you, son?”

Frowning, Gohan wondered where this question was going but given his father has asked twice, he opted to answer. “Eight, you missed my seventh birthday last year.”

Goku gave a saddened look “I know, I’m sorry about that.”

Gohan just gave a smile “It’s okay but why did you ask, Daddy?” he pouted “You DO know my birthday, right?” his question was half-teasing, half-serious so he relaxed a bit when Goku laughed out loud as well.

“’Course I do. I’m making a point.” He did kneel down now, so he was face to face with his child “How old is Daddy?”

Gohan blinked, surprised. “Uh…” Truth be told, Gohan never bothered to think about it. As far as he knew, Daddy had always been the way he was: older, wiser and unbeatable. So, while the side of him that longed to be mature and respected tried to think of a good response, the child in him replied: “Old.”

Goku wrinkled his forehead and pouted “Gee, thanks.”

“Well, I dunno Daddy, I never bothered to think about it. You and Mom have always been…well…old to me.”

“For your information, little mister” Goku teased lightly as he steered his son down the hall a bit more “I’m only twenty-eight.”

Gohan eyed his father “Only? Dad, that’s…ancient.”

Goku opted to ignore that response and asked, “Did I tell you when my grandpa started training me?”

Gohan gave a nod as they entered the bathroom and his father turned on the tub water, making the room fill with steam when the hot water poured out. He had heard that story many a time and he enjoyed it. The older man sounded like he would have been fun to meet. Gohan knew that his father’s relationship with his grandfather was a treasured bond and wondered, sometimes, if he was doing his namesake proud. Shaking his head to stay focused, he yelped lightly when his father stripped his nightshirt off him without any warning but replied to the man’s question “Yeah, you said you were five or so.”

“So, you’re my little math wizard. How long has Daddy been doing martial arts training then?” With a flick of his hand, Goku tossed his son’s nightshirt on the stool to keep it dry and nodded in encouragement as the boy caught on and stripped off his boxers and slacks.

Frowning in concentration, Gohan replied, “Well, twenty-three years then Daddy.”

Goku pulled his son up by the arm and while he probably didn’t need to anymore, he still held onto the boy’s arm as he lowered him into the hot water. He heard his son’s breath come out in a hiss from the heat but then the muscles relaxed into the warm water. Gohan settled down and eyed his father, “Daddy, why?”

“The hot water will relax your muscles.” Goku replied as he pulled the hose over and sprayed down his boy’s hair, though he was aiming more for the tenseness of the boy’s shoulders and neck than anything else. Gohan parted his wet hair and clarified

“No, I mean, why did you ask me that?” He asked, looking over his shoulder at his father.

“Oh.” Goku adjusted the hose and rubbed into the wet skin with his large hands. Gohan groaned in protest and gritted his teeth as his muscles protested the treatment but listened and kept still. “Well, think about it, Gohan. Daddy’s been training for twenty-three years. You started when you were four so you’ve only been doing it for four years; son and you’re already past what I was when I fought in my first tournament. And I was thirteen when that happened, little man.” He moved down a bit to work on his son’s upper arms, digging in deep to get at those stubborn muscles knots. There were a few that were resisting but he would soon take care of that. He felt his son tense and whispered an apology to the boy but followed up his massage with another spray of warm water. “So in four years you’ve improved more than I did in eight!” He worked a bit deeper on the boy’s biceps. They had the most muscle knots that he could feel. He was hating making his little boy hurt but it was working out those muscles kinks and it would also help any pain brought on by anything other than muscle strains. His grandpa used to rub his back to make him relax so he would do something similar with his own child.

Gohan blinked, taking in what his father had said: more improvement in his four years than in his father’s eight. He was more than a little stunned at that realization. Goku hugged his son tightly from behind him and worked down on the boy’s upper back, attacking the protesting muscles. Gohan winced lightly but quickly tried to hide that discomfort. Swallowing, “Really, Daddy?” the boy inquired, leaning back and letting his father’s large muscles work out the kinks in his own. “I’ve improved that much?” The warm water and his father’s hands were making his arms and back dull in pain and the hot water was seeping into his legs, making them feel less and less like they were on the receiving end of an angry seamstress.

“More than you think, son.” He assured the boy and moved up again, working on the boy’s neck. Goku saw the warm water starting to loosen the muscles and relax the boy’s entire body and more than that, he saw the telltale signs that sleep was quickly coming. Goku kept working on the boy’s neck, assuring him “More than I could have imagined, Gohan. You’re just too hard on yourself. You’re almost at me and Piccolo’s level.” He grinned at his child, “I want you to just do the best you can and you’ll see, son, everything else will come.” He smiled at his small boy, saying “And Daddy is always going to be proud of you, no matter what!” He ruffled the boy’s hair with one hand “Remember, you’re always at least twice as strong as you think you are! We really need to work on that…”

Gohan didn’t exactly believe that but given that his father seemed determined, he allowed himself to somewhat believe it. It was reassuring to hear exactly how much he had improved, how much he had grown in such a short amount of time. Was it so outrageous to want to be one with his father’s level one day? Daddy didn’t seem to think that was so crazy. That was encouraging. In his dreams, Gohan fought side by side with his father, being his martial arts equal. He was not ashamed to admit he had such selfish dreams. And what his father said…about always being twice as strong as he thought he was? Was there any truth to that? It seemed ridiculous but yet, he was inclined to believe it, even if it seemed stupid. Daddy never lied to him, he knew that much. Maybe…maybe he was being too hard on himself. After all, they had only been training a little over a year…

Goku smiled lightly as his child opened his mouth and yawned widely and rubbed at his left eye. “Muscles feel better, little man?”

A light nod greeted his inquiry and Goku scooped the boy up with a towel, rubbing the boy’s wild hair down before helping him redress. “Then, Daddy’s job is done. Let’s get you back to bed before you fall asleep standing up.”

Gohan gave a nod again and laid his head on his father’s shoulder as Goku helped him pull his slacks up. He felt his father’s chest rumble with a low laugh then felt himself lifted off the ground and cradled tightly into that large chest. He was suddenly exhausted and he doubted it was from the herbal remedy though he knew those did tend to make one sleepy. Rather, he blamed his father’s warm bath and muscle massage but his muscles weren’t screaming at him anymore. They felt good. Limp as cooked noodles though so Gohan was glad for the ride back to his bed although he felt some small part of him protest being carried like a little child. Given how limp he felt at the moment and how happy, he was more than willing to tell that voice to shut up for the time being.

In contrast to the hot water, his bed sheets felt so cool and inviting. He buried his face into the plush pillow and then yelped a little when he felt his father’s hands on his legs, working into them just like he had the arms. Gohan winced a bit at first but he felt those muscle knots loosen and disappear within a few minutes. Closing his eyes, he murmured, “Thanks Daddy.”

Goku finished one leg and worked on the other. The legs were not as bad but by the time he finished rubbing them, his son’s breathing was steady and even. Smiling to himself, he stood, pulled the sheets tightly around his son, and whispered as he left, because ChiChi had always said people picked up things when they were sleeping,

“Remember, little man, you are, at least, twice as strong as you think you are.” He smiled as he headed for the door and added “And every inch you grow, that level grows too.” He didn’t know if Gohan believed him but Goku made it a personal goal and duty for himself, not as a martial artist but as a father, to make sure his son knew how special he was.

****


	13. Let Him Be Little

Let Him Be Little

**_TIME FRAME: During the time in the hospital after the battle with the Saiyans before the trip to Namek; Gohan is five years old._ **

Goku's eyes snapped open even though there was no noise to indicate any threat. No shouts, no cries, and there wasn’t even any alien ki lurking about. He knew all the energies he was sensing or at least knew who they belonged to. All the nurses and doctors and aides. Most of them gathered in one area, probably the nurse’s station with only a choice few darting to and fro down the halls. One of them had come in to monitor his heart rate a few minutes ago so they weren’t comin’ this way. He could feel small little ki levels, scattered throughout the floor but most of them were nearly non-existent given he was one of the few on this floor that was conscious.

 

Thus, his curiosity had been significantly whetted. He was limited in his movement, being bandaged, literally head to toe, but he could feel the change in the air. Whether the ki and energy around them was reminiscent of it or not, something was amiss. Shifting his eyes about, he saw nothing out of place. The hospital room was dark; with ChiChi having left to get some sleep (amid a lot of protesting and it took a visit from the CEO to convince her it was non-negotiable) and Krillin had been released the day before so...

 

The soft whimpering brought realization to him and he squirmed, trying to force his body upward. No good. His broken bones refused to move and his muscles refused to cooperate. This bed, while apparently the “best” for his type of injuries was exceptionally good at immobilizing him and being still had never been his strong point. Straining his neck as much as he could, and getting a surge of immense pain for his trouble, he settled his eyes on the other occupant of the room.

"G-gohan."

 

The five year old shifted in his bed, wincing when the movement brushed his bruised ribs but his whimpers were from dark dreams and nothing more. Nightmares were not uncommon for Goku’s son, even before this whole mess, in no small part due to the boy’s massive imagination. Goku and ChiChi had long ago grown accustomed to chasing away monsters, demons and living vegetables. Oh, the nights they had been called from sleep to go and soothe a frightened child or to carry a frantic little boy back to cuddle between the two of them. Goku's heart ached. Every fiber of his being said for him to get up and comfort his child but his body was not cooperating! It refused to let him even turn very much, despite his attempts to do so. Frustrated, the Saiyan closed his eyes and reached out to his son with his ki.

 

There was a faint pause when Goku felt his ki brush with his child's darkened and frightened one. Gohan was not a master at ki control just yet but given he had already learned to fly with it, he was far more advanced than most adults. His small, disturbed energy pattern reacted to his father’s extended warm one. After a moment or two, during which Goku focused as much warm positive energy as he could into a gentle caress, at least as well as ki would allow, the boy's eyes shot open and he sat up, panting ever so slightly as his long hair fell in sweaty dreads into his face.

 

"It's okay, Gohan," Goku called to the boy who quickly shifted his face to meet his father's. God, he looked petrified and despite his body protesting immensely, Goku shifted a bit, enough so that he could at least lock eyes with his son without stretching his neck. It put a lot of weight on his broken arms but he didn’t care. Gohan needed him right now. "It's okay; it was just a bad dream, little man." Goku hoped his voice sounded convincing. Darn this stupid bed. He needed to be over THERE, damn it! Much as he was grateful he could look at his child, he needed to be able to be next to him. He needed to be able to hug him.

 

"Not a dream," Gohan mused, rubbing his eyes and then wrapping his arms around himself in a half hug. "Not a dream at all. Tien...Yamcha...Chaotzu....they're all dead. They killed them all. I saw it. Piccolo....they killed Piccolo and I couldn't do nothin’!" His tiny voice broke slightly and his country accent was coming out, something that rarely happened, given ChiChi’s strict teaching regime about proper dictation. It only happened when Gohan’s emotional pain would override his manners, so not very often. It sounded like he wanted to cry and indeed, was fighting not to. Damn it! He was a little boy! If he needed to cry, he needed to cry and he shouldn’t be standing there, looking so lost! This was the part where Goku would scoop him up and let him lean into his chest or lock his arms around his neck and tickle his son’s neck with playful bites until the boy laughed. He needed to be right there, on that bed, next to his son and he couldn’t be! Damn it, damn it, damn it!

 

"Gohan," Goku stressed his son's name and the frantic boy met his face again, unshed tears sparkling in the bottoms of his eyes. "I can't come there so you come here, come over to Daddy." That wasn’t the same but it was the best Goku could do right now. It wasn’t fair to his son. He was just a little boy, if a strong little boy, but well, Goku would have to work with what he could work with. Eyeing the evil bed, again, he seriously pondered just breaking the thing open and dealing with ChiChi’s ranting and the doctor’s groaning in the morning if it would help his son.

 

Responding quickly to the full blooded Saiyan’s suggestion, Gohan shifted. Slipping his tiny bare feet (God, he was so little, still!) onto the floor, the boy trotted to his father's side and the man forced his bandaged hand up, reached out and caressed the boy's tear stained face. Gohan clung to that bandaged hand like a lifeline. "It's not your fault, Gohan. Don't you think for one minute that it is." Being able to see his son so close, it broke Goku’s heart. Even in the limited light from the hallway and the night outside, he could see the fear illuminated in those deep eyes and the fact he couldn’t pull him into his chest and hold him was infuriating. He, again, seriously considered just breaking this stupid bed and dealing with them having to reset his bones again. Maybe they would take the hint. “You hear me, son? Not your fault.” He toughened his voice, not something he did often but his boy NEEDED to know this.

 

"But it is!" Gohan protested, hiccupping a bit though he did lean into his father's hand with his cheek, "I didn't react. I didn't fight like I trained to, like I shoulda and they died 'cause of it!" His little nose was starting to run and those tears he had kept at bay in his eyes were trickling down his cheeks. “It was my fault, Daddy! I let your friends die and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I didn’t do what I needed to do and they died! I was a coward! I was a sniffling little failure of a coward and I’m so sorry!” Burying his face into his hands, he sobbed openly.

 

Knocking the side of the bed with his elbow and maybe loosening its confines a bit, the Saiyan shifted, ignoring the protests of his body. Eyes softening, Goku said gently, reaching up and stroking his son’s long black hair, "Gohan, it was your first battle. No one knows what to do in their first battle and I know that you had heard all my stories about them being so strong. Seeing them fall like that musta scared you to death." Smiling warmly, he said "And I'm so sorry for that Gohan. If I'd had my way, you never woulda been near that battle." He meant that. As much as he loved that his son had discovered the martial arts, he despised the reasons why and the methods that had been used. He was supposed to have shown and introduced his son to the art of fighting, not suddenly dropped him into a war. As much as Goku was grateful to Piccolo for training his son, he also harbored a deep anger at the Namekian for thrusting his barely-not-a-baby-anymore onto the battlefield like he had. Circumstances be damned, it wasn’t right. Gohan had only been out of diapers for two years and now he already knew what death was, what killing was, what fear—real fear---was.

 

It made the father sick to his heart.

 

"But I wanted to help," Gohan whimpered, though he was loathe to let go of his father’s hand. Had it really only been a year since he was clinging to the man’s pant leg and hanging off his neck with a shy smile? It seemed like a lifetime ago but oh, how he’d missed it. That warm, solid security…"I was good at the trainin' and I...I liked it." He meant that. Not all of it and he often found himself imagining how Daddy’s training would have been different but the skills he learned, the abilities…it had thrust a sense of control and power into him that he never imagined. He would be lying to say he didn’t enjoy that aspect. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t pondered what fun he could have had training with his father and if he would ever perfect his father’s signature move. He’d be lying if he had said the day he figured out he could fly, he had not laughed like a hyena in ecstasy. However, seeing all those brave men…men that he had heard about in so many stories, men that had jumped into the fray without a single thought to the danger…just drop, one by one, it had planted a deep fear in him. One that cut him directly to the core. Then, there was Piccolo…the man who had taught him what strength was…had taught him what abilities had been sleeping inside him…the one friend he had ever had besides his family and the animals and the only person he had known for a whole year, to see him die all because he had failed at what he had been taught…

 

He sniffed and wiped his runny nose on his father's arm to which the man made no reaction. He'd had worse. "But I failed." Gohan’s tiny little voice wavered and cracked like glass which only made Goku’s heart do the same. He hardened his face, took on his “stern” tone—one he had only recalled using once with his son before.

 

"No, little man." Goku corrected him again, "You didn't fail. You're still here. Krillin is still here. I'm still here. You helped save me and Krillin. And we're gonna get the others back. You were so brave, little man and I'm so proud of you." His heart would burst if he were any prouder and that carried in his voice. The sternness faltered and all that remained was chest-stuck-out-and-head-held-high pride.

 

Eyes flickering up, Gohan sniffed, again "Honest?" He asked. It hardly seemed possible. What had he done to win praise and yet his father never lied. It was a bit hard to see through his tears but all the same, the warmth of his father’s smile and the authenticity of his tone cut through the mind-numbing cold of fear that those memories had wrapped around his heart. Sniffling again, Gohan rubbed the bottoms of his wet eyes with his free hand “Really honest, Daddy?” He didn’t doubt the man but he just couldn’t imagine how anyone could be proud of the disaster of a fighter he’d been in that battle and yet Daddy had said he was and his voice had been the happiest Gohan could remember and….

 

"Honest-Ponest." Goku teased, referring to their old games when they would rhyme words with one another as he gently poked the boy’s nose with his bandaged finger. It had been so long since they’d done that and suddenly, the Saiyan warrior was achingly sick for it. He wanted that more than anything else—to be playing with his son in front yard, throwing silly little phrases at him, tickling his sides and hearing the boy laugh. That’s what they should have been doing but instead, they were having to find a way to revive all those that had been lost. The Saiyan father made a note that they needed to set aside time when all of this was done to just…play. To just be father and son again. “Never been prouder of anyone my whole life than of you right now, little monkey.”

 

Gohan blinked for a moment then smiled, wiping at his wet eyes. Little Monkey? His father had several nicknames for him but he had not called him little monkey since…well, since he still took a bottle, if Gohan remembered right. He could recall some of those days. The simple innocence of the day when they would run outside, play, wrestle, tease one another and Daddy would toss him into the air and he would laugh and laugh. Oh, those games had been fun. It had been a long time since they’d done that. A year….it had really been a year? He wanted those days back.

 

"You trust me right?" Goku’s gentle but firm inquiry made Gohan look up. His father’s deep eyes were narrowed in seriousness with his question. When the boy nodded, Goku advised "So trust me when I say that you did the best you could do and no one could be more proud of you than me." He set his child with a strong smile. He’d say it a thousand times if it got his son to believe it. Judging by the uneasiness in the boy’s ki, his words were not really hitting which disturbed him more than he cared to admit. His little boy shouldn’t have all this negatively churning in his spirit!

 

Head down, Gohan stated, quietly, as if afraid to hear it out loud. "Even though I was scared. Even though I'm still scared?" His tiny fingers traced small circles on his father’s palm.

 

Goku cursed his broken body in as many words as he knew (and after traveling around the world, he’d learned a lot and then there was that one word that the Lord of Worlds had said quite a bit during his training). This was the part where he scooped up his son and cradled him. He pushed against those casts and they gave, if only a little. He could burst them off so easy and oh, if it wasn’t tempting. "Gohan, it's normal to be scared. But you fought and did the best you could anyway. THAT is what it is to be brave, little man."

 

Nodding, Gohan said "S-sorry I woke you up, Daddy. I'll...try to go back to sleep." He was glad for the man’s presence. It had calmed some of his nerves and while he did not look forward to going back to those dreams, at least he knew that his father, the man he looked up to the most in the world, did not think lesser of him. Whether or not that was deserved or not, Gohan wasn’t sure but for now, it was a mild comfort. He would take what he could. He just wanted these dark images, those yells, those screams, to stay away. This wasn’t like it used to be, when Daddy could cradle him and protect him and promise to make the darkness go away. Was he selfish for wishing it was? After all, the reason Daddy was so beat up was because he didn’t help out when he should have. Daddy said he wasn’t mad but Gohan couldn’t help but think about it, just like he couldn’t keep those images away when he closed his eyes. “You should go back to sleep too, Daddy.” He reluctantly drew his hand from his father’s.

 

            Nope, nope, this was not okay. Goku could HEAR the fear in his son’s tone. Understandably too. He had seen his little boy with nightmares before. He had heard him cry out and sob in horror of things that weren’t even real. Now though, Gohan had things that were real. Things that he had seen. He had seen men that he considered to be far more advanced than him fall and die. Not in a distant way either but a very direct in-your-face manner that was permanently painted on his mind. The kind of fear Goku heard in that tiny voice was enough to justify his decision.

 

            With a low grunt, he sat up all the way, breaking the top half of the bed apart, much to his son’s pure shock. It clattered to the ground in pieces and the only consultation was that the broken wires meant that it didn’t make that horrible beeping noise. Goku’s fast reflexes, despite the yelp of protest it made him give out, stopped it from slamming to the ground and he set the broken pieces down to the left of the bed. It made a lot less noise that Gohan though it should though but then, maybe he just wasn’t paying much attention. He was trying to wrap his head around what his father was doing. The doctors and nurses had said if he wasn’t careful then those bones wouldn’t heal right. What was he thinking?! “Daddy!”

 

The Saiyan’s broken bones and muscles protested immensely. He ignored their screaming at him and instead, reached over, plucked his son up under the arms, though being gentle of the boy’s bruises and cuts and settled back into the bed, curling his son up tight on his chest. The bruised lungs and fractured ribs elicited a sharp protest to this extra weight that Goku opted to ignore entirely. It hurt but he could handle a little bit of hurt. He settled his attention instead on his rather frazzled son who was looking directly at him with huge eyes.

 

“Da-daddy…your arms and your ribs and…” He began but Goku just shook his head, wrapped one arm around his son’s head, gently ironing him to his chest. The broken elbow protested but the adult bit his lower lip to keep from crying out. It took a moment but the pain passed and he settled his hand into his son’s hair, stroking it back, ignoring the ache it sent through his muscles. After a moment, his chest settled and adjusted to his son’s nearly insignificant weight. He should have weighed more than he did to be frank.

 

Gohan’s initial thought was to struggle and insist his father stop but the moment he was laid against that broad chest and those arms were tightly cocooned around him, despite the bandages and broken pieces of plaster from the shattered casts, he felt safer than he had in months. It didn’t matter that his father was deeply injured and hurt. It didn’t matter that his ability to fight was seriously compromised by his wounds. It didn’t matter that Vegeta was still out there. All that mattered right now was that he was back in his father’s arms, the place he had wanted to be for the past year. Tears bubbled up in his eyes and he inhaled, deeply, trying to trap that smell back into his consciousness and block out the nasty “hospital” smell.

 

“Ah, my body’s fine, Gohan.” Goku told him simply. “Your Daddy’s a lot tougher than he looks. You looked like you needed this right now.” He didn’t add that he had missed it himself. While his training and running in the Other World had kept his body and mind distracted, when he stopped to rest, his thoughts would instantly drift to his wife and Gohan. He hadn’t found out Piccolo was training Gohan until he came back but all the same, he had wondered about his child, wondering how he was coping with him gone. Shifting sight down to his tiny child, he delicately stroked those bruised arms, those torn gashes. “You’ve been through so much, little monkey.”

 

Gently threading his arms around his father’s neck, the Half-Saiyan settled, taking advantage of the rather impetuous decision of his father, though being careful not to squirm too much. They used to do this all the time. They would lay on the couch or when he went to bed, his father would flop down and he’d inevitably end up curled against him. His father would sometimes tell him one of his old adventure stories or some of the old folk tales that his grandfather used to tell him when he was little. Gohan’s favorite story had always been about the Peach Boy, especially when Daddy would tell it. The smell, the feel, the overall presence of his father was intoxicatingly relaxing and it seemed that despite everything else that had changed, that had not. He nearly sobbed out of relief. One thing…one constant and it was the most important one. He was deeply grateful for it.

 

Focusing on his father’s breathing, in and out, Gohan’s bright eyes continued to watch the room. He knew he needed to sleep, especially for his wounds to heal but it was so hard. His father’s strong arms had finally put him in a place where it might be possible but he had to admit, “I’m scared of what I’ll see when I shut my eyes, Daddy.” He confessed, softly. “I don’t want to see them all die again but that’s all I can see.” He sniffled, nuzzling a bit deeper into his father’s embrace, though being careful to stop moving if he felt his parent tense.

 

Silence a moment and Goku’s arms tightening around him certainly helped. “Well, we just needa paint something else for you to see, then, right?” His father’s inquiry was simplistic and warm, just like it had always been. “So, let’s see…” The Saiyan drifted off, silently pondering his options. Much as he would have liked to force those dreams out of his son, that never worked. It used to be that he could threaten whatever monster was haunting him and that would be that but these were memories, not monsters.

 

His father’s strong fingers continued to stroke through his ratty long black hair and the five year old embraced it. Letting the steady rhythm of his father’s breathing, and the soft and subtle lift and fall of his chest, serve as a soother to his mind, he was so intently focused on it that he almost missed his father’s next statement.

 

“You know, Gohan, my Grandpa used to tell me about this ol’ couple that lived not that far from us. Oh, they lived a long time ago but they lived a lot like us! They’d hunt, fish and just live off the land. Pretty happy too, except for one thing. You know what that was?”

 

A smile, a true smile, spread over Gohan’s face “They didn’t have a kid?”

 

“Good memory, little man.” Goku praised softly, keeping up his gentle stroking through the boy’s hair. “No kiddo. That’s all they really wanted but no luck. Then, that all changed one day. See, kinda like I go out to get firewood and stuff, that’s where the husband went and his wife went down to the creek and can you guess what was floating in the creek?”

 

“A peach.” Gohan supplied, picturing it, just as he had always done years ago. “A big, big one. Bigger than me?” His fingers, subconsciously, began to play with his bottom lip.

 

“Bigger than you!” Goku agreed, reaching down and gently eased his son’s small fingers into his mouth. For a moment, he wondered if Gohan had truly outgrown it but then the gentle slurps started and his son lay still, his bright eyes softening and calming. “So, the ol’ woman brought it inside, rolled it in like a stone and called for her husband, like your Mama calls for me sometimes. And see, he was a smart man so he came a-rushin’ back to see what was wrong! What a surprise to see a big ol’ peach there! I betcha he was thinkin’ how many pies she could make from it but when they went to cut it, a little voice called out…”

 

“Don’t cut me, don’t cut me…” Gohan chimed in, around his fingers. “Please don’t cut me.”

 

“Yep!” Goku shifted, just a bit, so he could cover his son up with the blanket. “And then, just like that, outta that peach came a little boy, just like you!”

* * *

 

ChiChi rushed along the hallway and no one dared stay in her path. She was determined to talk to the management again today about being able to stay with her son and husband. She had been lenient far too long, as far as she was concerned. They weren’t in life threatening danger anymore so NOW she wasn’t allowed to stay? It made no sense and she was not about to tolerate it anymore. Her family needed her and anyone who tried to stop her was going to feel her wrath. Clutching her basket under her arm, she nearly ran into the nurse currently blocking her way in.

 

“Excuse me—“ she started but then the woman turned, with a smile and put a finger to her lips. The gentleness of her eyes was enough to stop the Son Matriarch’s tirade. Slowly, she slipped into the room before stopping herself and her heart fluttered.

 

Goku, fast asleep, with their little boy resting on his chest. The man had his arms wrapped tightly around the child, starving off any wound-be attackers. Gohan, limp as a rag doll, slept heavy with three fingers firmly planted in his mouth . It was a sight she had not seen for over a year and she didn’t realize until this moment how deeply she missed it. The simple innocence of it, a father and his son, without a worry in the world. No monsters, no invasion, just the simplicity of being together.

 

Setting her basket on the nightstand, ChiChi pushed up one of the large chairs, rested her head on the mattress, and smiled. Watching them, her budding anger and frustration melted away. Laying a hand on Goku's, she closed her eyes, welcoming the togetherness they had not had for far too long. It was unorthodox and not ideal but they were together.

 

That was enough.


End file.
